I Dare You To Move
by FFA331
Summary: "Everybody's watching you now. Everybody waits for you now. What happens next?" When Lindsay gets shot and Halstead goes missing, Voight, Dawson and the intelligence unit pull all the stops to find out what happened and find their missing member. But in order to catch these criminals, they will have to ask themselves; how far are they willing to go to?
1. All The Ones Who Love You

**I Dare You To Move**

** -SwitchFoot**

_I Dare You To Move is my first ongoing story, and my first one for Chicago PD, so sorry if characters are OOC or it takes a while to get going, or if it just plain sucks. __I also know nothing about Chicago or medical treatment or policies, so I'll probably screw all that up. Feel free to correct m__e__. __The title is the same as a wonderful song by Switchfoot, it's great, go check it out. The story focuses around Voight's character and his decisions, so there will probably end up being a lot of him and Lindsay family moments, but I will do everything in my power to make it a whole-unit story. It's not a Linstead story __('Cause I can't write romance)__, but it does focus on both their characters __and their relationship as partners. _

_Since this story focuses around the unit as a whole, I won't show any scenes with the bad guys, until Voight discovers who they are and tracks them down. My plan is to have the readers only know as much as Voight does. Sorry, if this A/N was really long. I hope you enjoy. Criticism is always welcome._

**Chapter 1 All The Ones Who Love You**

**(My Wish by Rascal Flatts)**

"Alright." Voight's voice rang out across the room. "Good job today. All of you, it's been a long day, go home. Paperwork can wait," he announced before retreating to his office, probably to do some paperwork.

"I am so good with that!" Ruzek cheered.

Olinsky rolled his eyes as Atwater patted Ruzek on the back. "You want to go grab some drinks?" Asked the newest member of intelligence.

Ruzek smiled. "Oh, hell yes. We earned it. Let's grab Roman and Ki- Burgess. Al? You in?"

The older detective shrugged. "I'll meet you there."

"Dawson? Lindsay? Halstead?" Ruzek asked, as Olinsky headed over to Voight's office and Atwater made his way down the stairs to get the two cops.

Dawson agreed, "I'm free."

Halstead exchanged a glance with his partner. "I don't k-" she began.

"Sure," Halstead blurted out, cutting of the female detective.

"Awesome" Ruzek cheered, racing down the stairs after Atwater. "See you there."

Lindsay glared at her partner. "Really?"

He laughed, "You need to loosen up more. You did good today. We got a father back to his daughter. We've earned a break. You've earned a break."

She sighed as she threw on her jacket. As she made her way down the stairs with Halstead, she smirked. "Okay fine," she decided. "But just this once."

"You said that last time too," he teased.

"Do you want me to go?"

Halstead put his hand up in surrender. "Last time?" he joked. "What last time?"

Voight silently watched the two detective's disappear down the stairs. Once they were out of sight, Olinsky spoke up.

"You should take your own advice sometimes."

Voight shrugged. "I can't exactly go with you guys."

"Fair enough," he decided, remembering the bad blood Voight had with the owner's of the bar they frequented. Isn't Justin in town? Couldn't you go 'bond' with your son and Olive?"

"They need time to themselves. They've got a lot to talk about."

"My point still stands. Put down the paperwork for once. Even if it's just watching the game at home, alone on your couch, you've earned some down time. Take some."

"Maybe, once I'm done this."

Olinsky let out a small laugh. "You're impossible. At least get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

Voight nodded as Olinksky went to his desk to pick up his jacket and headed off.

Voight headed home around midnight. He sat down on his couch with a cold beer from the fridge and turned on the television. He had no idea what he was watching though (some late night, boring drama) since his mind was thinking of a million other things: Justin and Olive and their future, Erin and Jay, and whether or not they were going out behind his back (he decided they weren't), and how terrible Ruzek and Burgess were at hiding their relationship (not that it really mattered, she wasn't in his unit).

Time passed by and around 1am, he decided he should get some sleep before shift tomorrow. He was turning off the TV when his phone rang. Dawson's name appeared on the screen.

"Voight," he answered. "What is it?"

"It's my sister. She was working the late shift at the firehouse, when Mills and Brett came back from a call. Voight, it's Erin."

Voight froze. "What?"

"She's been shot. I don't know the details, but they took her to Chicago Med. I'll grab Halstead, and call Al. He can grab Ruzek and Atwater. We'll meet you there."

Olinsky arrived at the hospital with Atwater and Ruzek at his heels (Burgess too, for some reason). They bunch made their way to the front desk.

"Erin Lindsay. GSW," he demanded, ignoring the fact that the poor man was on the phone.

The receptionist simply nodded. "One moment please," he said to the person on the phone. "You lot with Voight?"

"Yeah. That's us."

"You're a lot calmer than him. Just go down that hallway. Take the second right. You should find your boss there, in the waiting room. That's all I can tell you. Sorry."

Burgess nodded. "Thank you." By the time she'd finished the two words, the others were already rushing off.

"Voight," Olinsky called when they found him. "How is she? What happened?"

He shook his head. "GSW is all I know. No one's come out yet with details. She's still in surgery."

"Damn," Atwater muttered. "They were fine when she and Halstead left Molly's." Ruzek and Burgess, nodded, confirming what he'd said.

"Where are Halstead and Dawson?" Ruzek wondered a loud.

As if on cue, Voight's phone rang, Dawson's name showing up on the screen.

"Well, this can't be good," Ruzek muttered.

"Dawson. Where are you?" Voight barked.

"I'm at Halstead's place," he said, his voice frantic.

"I'm going to put you on speaker. Hang tight...Okay go."

"He wasn't picking up when I called him. So I came here- to his place." There was a pause. "You...you might want to get over here."

"Dawson," Voight barked. "Speak."

"Halstead's not here. The place is a mess and there's a lot of blood and a hole in the wall, from a bullet. It's a safe bet that Lindsay was shot here."

"At Halstead's place?" Voight repeated. He didn't ask why she was there. He had a detective down and another missing. There was only one question on his mind. "Damn it? What the hell happened there?"

"I don't know," Dawson admitted. "But you should probably get a CSU over here. Now."

"I'll call Roman," Burgess volunteered, earning a confused look from most of the unit. "We'll help Dawson and the CSI's with the crime scene." She took in the confused looks. "You're two men down. You need the help."

Voight nodded.

Burgess pulled out her phone and walked off, shouting "call me when you know anything!" as she did.

"You too!" Ruzek replied.

"Dawson..."Voight whispered, "In house."

"All due respect boss," he stated. "I will do whatever it takes. If calling in back-up helps us catch these dirt bags and find Halstead, I'm not going to wait for your 'say so'."

Voight sighed, "Find them Antonio."

The only response was the sound of the Antonio hanging up.

"Forget what I said about rest," Voight stated to Olinsky, Ruzek and Atwater. "Al, you and Ruzek, head back to the station and see if the two of them had any enemies who might have done this."

"It's going to be a long list..." Ruzek pointed out.

"Do I look like I care?" Voight growled. Ruzek shook his head. "Atwater, you stay here. Let us know the _moment_ you know anything about Lindsay. The moment!"

"What about you?" The newest detective asked as the other three began to leave the waiting room. They all paused at the question.

"I'm going to ask around," he explained. "No one sleeps until we solve this. Now let's go."

**_Dun Dun Dun. Next Chapter will be up soon. Either later tonight or in the next couple days. Suggestions and any comments are welcome. Hope you liked it._**


	2. Grab Your Gun, Time to go to Hell

_I wasn't going really planning to update again today, but seeing all the reviews, follows and favourites, I decided, I'd do it right away. On the topic of reviews, I'm going to try and answer them all right now (emphasis on try). Erin's condition will be known in this chapter, but since Jay is missing, it is certainly going to take some time (I'll try not to drag it out too long) for us to figure out how he's doing or who has him. Don't worry though, there will be whump for him though. Your wish is my command. :) Just like in a real episode, there are going to be multiple suspects, some may be the culprit, others may be innocent. I said last chapter, I suck with any romance story line, and I don't want to write poorly about such well-made characters. However...I will do my best to put in scenes that suggest that there may be some romantic feelings (like they do in the show)...emphasis on try. I hope that answers any burning questions or concerns. If I missed any please let me know. _

_By the way, this chapter will contain Chicago Fire characters. You don't strictly need to have watched the show to understand, but it may help. I think it's okay though, they aren't incredibly important to the story._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2 Grab Your Gun, Time to go to Hell<strong>

**(Search and Destroy -30 Second to Mars)**

* * *

><p>"What do we got?" Burgess asked Dawson, as she and Roman entered Halstead's apartment.<p>

Dawson turned to her. "Where's CSU?"

"On their way," Roman explained. "And don't worry, we warned them that Voight would have their badges if they spoke about this to anyone."

Dawson nodded. "Good. Now follow me." He led the two cops into the next room.

"Oh my god," Burgess gasped. Roman just stared in awe and horror.

To say the room was a mess would be a serious understatement. Nearly every piece of furniture was knocked on it's side or completely broken. One lamp had been shattered and a couple pieces had blood on it. A small framed picture of Halstead and his partner was on the floor. It's glass covering completely shattered and coated in blood.

Dawson picked it up with a gloved hand, shaking his head as he did so. Whoever did this to his friends was going to pay.

"Look at that wall," he said, gently laying the photo back down and pointing with his other hand. He rose to his feet and put his finger beside a small hole in the wall. The carpet beneath it was dyed red from blood. "There's a bullet lodged here. We'll need CSU to check it out, by my money's on it being the one that hit Lindsay."

He walked away from the wall and stood across the room, near it's entrance and raised an invisible gun at the hole in the wall. "Roman stand here." As the male cop did so, Dawson motioned for Burgess to come over to him as he moved halfway between where Roman was and the wall.

"Roman, pretend your shooting at the wall. Let's see...Burgess, you're about Lindsay's height right?"

"More or less."

"We can't know for sure since, we don't know the shooter's height, but Roman's pretty average so...if we can line you two up, we should get a general idea of where Lindsay was when she was hit. CSU will clarify more specifically when they get here," Dawson explained.

Dawson put his index finger on her stomach a little to his right. "Gabby said Lindsay's injury was about here. So..." He moved Burgess so Roman's imaginary gun pointed straight through Burgess's abdomen and into the hole in the wall. She was standing right in front of where the couch would be if it hadn't been knocked over.

"They were probably watching TV when the man took them by surprised," Burgess decided. "She must've staggered back before collapsing against the wall."

"Where was Halstead?" Roman wondered. "If they were both watching TV, why shoot just Lindsay?"

"Maybe he got what he wanted. Lindsay wasn't supposed to be here," Burgess suggested.

"Could be, but look," Dawson corrected. He knelt by a side table that had been knocked over and pointed at two open beer cans laying in front of it (as if they'd fallen off the table when it'd been knocked over in a struggle). "These two beer cans...there's hardly any beer spilt out of them. They were probably empty, but if you look over there..." He pointed at two more cans laying on the floor by the doorway that led to the kitchen.

"They were full," Roman observed. "There's beer spilt all over the carpet there."

"Halstead must've gone to get more beer. The shooter took the opportunity and took out Lindsay," Dawson explained. "Halstead dropped the cans in shock and that's likely when the fight ensued."

"But why not shoot Halstead too? Why fight him? The perp had a gun," Roman asked. "He must've been here for Halstead. Lindsay's collateral."

"You mean to say that someone was smart enough to successfully take down two intelligence detectives, but dumb enough to not wait until his target was alone?" Dawson asked. "Either this bastard is the luckiest man alive and just happened to walk in while Halstead was getting a beer, or, more likely, he waited for him to leave. If he's that patient, why not wait for Halstead to be alone? It's not like Lindsay was living here. She'd leave eventually."

"So...?" Roman asked. "This guy wanted to shoot Lindsay and take Halstead? Why not shoot them both or take them both?"

"This guy knew what he wanted," Burgess added. "He only fired one shot. Took out Lindsay as fast as possible...That says he's efficient, but a fight with Halstead...if he was truly efficient, why not bring a taser or something to subdue him?"

Dawson sighed. "That, I don't know. However, I think it was just one man. It would explain why he didn't take Lindsay also. He wasn't strong enough to take both of them. He needed one of them for god-knows-what, but he couldn't take them both."

"Yet he still came when they were both here. The only reason he would do that..." Burgess thought aloud.

"To inflict maximum pain," Dawson blurted. "Think about it; he wants to cause pain...or he wants to distract us. He only _needed_ one, but why not kill two birds with one stone? It's like a handicap. We're down an extra two men. Lindsay because she's in the hospital and Atwater, because he's checking up on her."

"Not to mention, how mad Voight's got to be. Lindsay and him are close," Burgess added.

"What if this isn't about Halstead at all?" Roman guessed. "What if it's all about Voight? Our perp wants to inhibit his performance so he removes two detective's from the equation, plus god-knows-what he wants with Halstead. Not to mention, Voight's in pain because Lindsay's in the hospital."

"It's a bit of a stretch, but it's definitely a place to start. Besides, Voight has way more enemies than Halstead and Lindsay. So it's more probable."

"I'll call Voight," Dawson decided. "Let him know what we think. Roman, you stay here, babysit the CSI's. Burgess, I need you to do something." He grabbed a notepad and pen from his pocket and scribbled an address down on it. "Justin and Olive. They're Voight's family. If this is about Voight, we can't take any chances. Keep them safe. At any cost. Do you understand?"

"Of course."

"If anything happens to them-"

"I've got it Dawson. I'll keep them safe."

"Good."

* * *

><p>"We could be wrong," Dawson admitted.<p>

"No," Voight sighed. "As much as I hate to say it, I think you could be right. Hopefully, you're not, but if you are..."

"We need to find Halstead now," Dawson finished. "Burgess is going to get Olive and Justin now. She'll keep them safe. That is if..." he trailed off.

"If they haven't already been taken. I doubt they're in any danger yet. Not a lot of people know that Justin's back in town or that Olive's pregnant. Still, it's a good call to get Burgess to watch them."

"I'm going to the firehouse. I'd like to talk to Mills and Brett, figure out what they saw. I'm going to call Ruzek and Olinksy, see if they can get a hold of the 9-1-1 call that may have saved Lindsay's life."

Voight paused. "Have you heard from Atwater?"

Dawson laughed, "There's no way in hell, he'd call me before you. He's not stupid."

Voight nodded. "He'd better."

"If I may ask..." Dawson began hesitantly. "What are you up to?"

"Asking around," he replied vaguely.

"Well that explains everything," Dawson grumbled sarcastically. "Forget I asked. I'll call you after I talk to Mills and Brett."

"You do that Dawson."

* * *

><p>By the time Dawson arrived at the firehouse, it was nearing 4am, three hours since he Gabby had called him. Three hours since the man he'd brought into intelligence (what seemed like forever ago) had been taken by the same maniac that had shot another one of his friends...well, friend didn't quite cover it. Everyone in the unit (even the newly added Atwater) was family.<p>

And that bastard was threatening that family. He _would pay._

"Antonio," called Matthew Casey, as he approached the detective. "Gabby told me that Lindsay was shot. I'm assuming you're here to see Mills and Brett about the call. Follow me."

The lieutenant lead him through the fire house. They were stopped by the squad lieutenant, Kelly Severide.

"Have you heard anything?" He asked. "How is she?"

"I don't know yet. I got a call saying she's out of surgery, but no one's come to talk to our detective yet."

"Then he should talk to them!" Severide shouted.

Casey put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'm sure he's moving heaven and earth for information. Now, Antonio needs to talk to Mills and Brett. I'm sure he'll let you know when he knows anything."

Severide sat back down with a sigh and Casey continued to lead Dawson through the house. "Sorry, he's just...he and Lindsay used to date and...well..since we lost Shay...he really can't lose anyone else."

"We can't lose her either," Dawson assured him.

"I don't doubt that for a second. Ah! Here they are! Brett! Mills! Antonio's here to talk to you about Erin Lindsay."

"Of course," Brett said, motioning for Dawson to sit next to the two paramedics.

"I'll leave you to it then," Casey announced.

"Wait Casey," Dawson called.

"Yeah?"

"Could you let Gabby know I'm here? I need to talk to her later."

"Of course," the lieutenant said before leaving.

"Alright, so," Dawson began. "Could you tell me what happened?"

"We got the call, didn't recognize the address," Brett started. "We showed up and the door was wide open. If I had to guess, I'd say it was picked."

"That was my guess too," Dawson agreed.

"The place was a mess," Mills explained. "And Lindsay...I didn't even recognize her at first...she was just in a slump up against the wall, unconscious. GSW to the abdomen. Bullet went clean through. She was still in pretty bad shape."

"Did you notice anything else?" Dawson asked.

"About her injury?" Brett wondered.

"No. I mean...was there any sign of another person?"

"Besides the mess?"

Dawson sighed. "Did anything stand out as odd?"

"Not really," Brett admitted.

"Well," Mills muttered. "I didn't think much about it then, but now that you ask, there was something."

"What?"

"Lindsay didn't have any blood on her hands. That alone was strange, you'd think she'd put pressure on the wound. It's possible she was in shock, but..." he trailed off.

"But what?" The detective urged.

"There were bloody handprints on her face and her, like someone had grabbed her face."

"As if they were trying to strangle her?"

Mills shook his head. "It was like this. If I may..." Dawson nodded and Mills put his hands on the detective's face and neck, removing them quickly after.

"Like someone was trying to kiss her?" Brett suggested, in a grossed out tone.

"Or trying to shake her so she'd regain consciousness," Mills added.

"Jay..." Dawson cursed under his breath.

"Huh? The detective who arrested Clarke?" Mills blurted.

Dawson ran a hand through his hair. "He was there. It was his place. He's missing."

"I'm so sorry," whispered Brett.

"That would explain it. He could've put pressure on her wound for her, then woken her up when she was losing consciousness," Mills added.

"I guess, but when?" Dawson wondered. "He would've fought the guy as soon as he entered the room ans saw him. And the suspect clearlt won, because he took Halstead."

"Maybe Halstead beat the guy then went to Lindsay and while he had all his attention on her, the perp got back up and took out your guy."

Dawson laughed, "Should've been a cop Mills."

Mills smiled, but shook his head.

"Or..." Dawson wondered. "What if the guy shot Lindsay and ran out of the room? Halstead heard the shot, saw her, dropped the beer and ran to her, ignoring any threat, only focussed on his partner. Then when he has his back turned...That bastard went back into the room to hit Halstead from behind."

"It's likely Lindsay would've remained conscious for a couple minutes with her injury," Brett suggested. "Maybe she warned him at the last moment and that's when the fight ensued. Halstead might've been able to mostly dodge the blow that was intended to knock him out."

"It would explain how Halstead lost the fight, if the other guy got in a cheap first hit," Dawson agreed. "He was experienced. He didn't bring a taser, because he planned to pistol whip Halstead on the back of the head."

Mills smiled. "Glad to be of service."

The alarm chimed, calling ambulance 61 to a scene.

"That thing goes off at the most ridiculous times," the male paramedic grumbled, before leading Brett out of the room. "You know where to find us if you have more questions."

Dawson sighed and called up Voight on his phone, explaining the new theory they'd developed.

Voight listened quietly. "Again, it's a good theory Dawson. I just wish we had more than theories," he admitted.

"I do too Voight, but this guy's a pro. We may never get more than theories. How's it going on your end?"

"People are giving me names of people to talk to and then they give me more names. So, nothing yet, but Al called. The 9-1-1 call came from an anonymous caller. Woman said she heard gun shots and to send an ambulance then hung up. They're trying to find her now."

"Good to know. I'll wrap it up here and head back to the crime scene. Any further word from Atwater?"

"Not yet. I'll call when I do."

"Okay," Antonio said as his boss hung up.

"Casey told me you wanted to see me?" Gabby called, entering the room.

Dawson leaned his head back. "Yeah," he whispered.

"Hey, 'tonio," she said soothingly, as she pulled a chair in front of his. She put a hand on his knee. "Lindsay's going to get better."

He put his face in his hands. "I just feel so useless."

"Well, you're not. You're piecing it together. You'll figure it out."

"And what if I can't do it fast enough? I need to solve this now."

"I know it feels that way-"

"No," Dawson interrupted. "Every second I don't solve this is a second that they do god-knows-what to Jay."

"Jay?"

"Yeah," he whispered, finally making eye contact with his sister. "He was with Lindsay. He's missing."

"Oh my god," She gasped. She took a deep breath. "You'll...you'll find him."

"I brought him into intelligence. If they hurt him...It's on me."

"You really want to go down that road?" Gabby asked boldly. "If you're to blame, so am I. I was his mission that led to you getting him into intelligence."

"Gabby..."

The firefighter looked straight at her brother. Tears were threatening to fall from his eyes. "You will find him, or your name isn't Antonio Dawson. Remember when you got shot? Against all the odds, your team found Pulpo. You aren't alone. Just like this firehouse, intelligence is a family. You will find the bastards that did this and you will find Jay."

"I hope you're right."

Gabby smiled. "I am."

The moment was interrupted by the ringing of Antonio's cell phone. He smile awkwardly. "I gotta..."

"Just find him," she demanded with a smile, before leaving her brother.

"Dawson," he answered.

"Dawson, it's Atwater."

"You found out what happened to Lindsay?!" he practically shouted, jumping to his feet. "How is she?"

"Dawson..." the newer detective whispered. "She...uh...she..."

"Spit it out Atwater!"

"You might want to sit down..."

* * *

><p><em>Wow, this turned out longer than expected...I kind of feel bad about the cliff hanger, so I'll try to upload the next part soon. And by the way, I wrote this around midnight, because I really wanted to get this out for all of you as soon as possible. I really hope you like it. It's not the best, and I'm not a cop or paramedic, so I'm reeeeally sorry if the theories are illogical and way out of left field...I try so hard to please, but I'm not nearly as good as some of the other writers on this site. Oh! Sorry if the scene with Gabby and Antonio is OOC, but I enjoy writing sappy family scenes...so...yeah...<em>

_And sorry for all the sorry's. Haha, I'm canadian can you tell? No, seriously, I'm canadian and I apologize WAAAAY to much. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed, please let me know what you think and what you'd like to see next. Next chapter will be about Voight._

**Next Chapter: **

** Chapter 3: Take Me Down To The Fighting End**


	3. Take Me Down to the Fighting End

_So, I don't mean this is in a "pity-me" way, but I've been having a really bad day today, and then I read all your awesome reviews! I just want to say thanks to all of you, by getting this chapter out today, when I planned on taking my time. Thank you all so much and I hope you enjoy!_

_Sorry, there's not a heck of a lot of explaining Erin's condition...I just suck with anything medical..I really did try my best for you guys though._

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Take Me Down to the Fighting End<strong>

** (Castle of Glass -Linkin Park)**

* * *

><p>Voight banged his head against his seat, his hand gripping the wheel tightly. He was waiting in a dark alley for a contact to show up.<p>

"_The surgeon...whoever took Halstead...they took his daughter," _Atwater had said. _"Said if he didn't kill Lindsay, they'd kill his daughter. He left a note apologizing to us."_

Voight took a deep breath and tried to convince himself it was going to be okay, but deep down he knew, nothing would ever be the same. The worst part, was it was almost definitely on him. He had a detective down and one missing, because of him.

He was going to make it right. No matter what.

"_He made an incision on one of her arteries. It was so small, no one else in the operating room noticed it. They stitched her back up, as she slowly bled out internally."_

He was waiting for a man named Nico Pavelski. He was a local gang-banger, a major "go-to" guy when it came to illegal deals. He considered himself an "illegal middle-man," and a true professional, but he'd slipped up a few years back. Voight could've arrested the guy, but he decided to turn him loose as a C.I. Pavelski agreed, since he would've gone away for a very long time.

"_They didn't realize anything was wrong until a several minutes later, when her vitals had begun to drop dangerously low. They rushed her back to surgery as fast as they could, but they were short a surgeon. The one who operated on Lindsay, Richard Blanc, was caught on surveillance, leaving the hospital just after the original surgery."_

Finally Voight saw him. Pavelski, strolled into the alley, whistling as he counted some money from some illegal transaction. The leader of intelligence got out of his car and stomped towards the "illegal middle-man."

"V-Voight," the C.I. stuttered. "H-Hey man. What's u-up?"

Voight walked right up to Pavelski and slammed him against the wall of a run-down building, causing him to drop the cash everywhere. "I don't have time for your games today! You damn well know 'what's up'!" He shouted.

Pavelski squeaked, "I-I-I may have heard a thing or two...I-I didn't think anyone would actually be crazy enough to go after H-Hank Voight!"

"They didn't!"

The criminal looked confused, but soon, realization fell over his face. "Who?" He whispered.

"Two of my detectives," Voight admitted in a slightly calmer (but no less threatening) tone. "One was shot. One was taken."

Pavelski looked up, as if trying to remember something. "Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I heardabout a deal going down. Something about...paying off a guy to take a surgeon's daughter. Said they wanted insurance of the death of a cop. If the cop made it to the hospital, they were to have the girl's daddy botch the surgery. Yours?"

"Yeah," Voight said, dangerously quiet.

"Is he- or she- o...okay?"

Voight's glare intensified. "She's alive. You, however, won't be if you don't tell me everything you know!"

"I-I don't know that much!"

Voight slammed Pavelski against the wall, pressing his forearm against the CI's throat. "Listen to me very closely. As we speak, I have one detective at death's door, fighting against all odds to hang onto her life and another who is probably being tortured. You. Will. Tell. Everything. Or I swear, I will drop you in the lake with a 'Chicago Necklace.' Is that clear?"

* * *

><p>"Voight!" Platt called as the leader of the intelligence unit stormed through the precinct.<p>

With slight reluctance, he made his way over the desk. "What?" He growled, impatiently.

"How is she?"

Voight sighed. "It's damage. They don't know if she'll make it, but they say there's hope. They said, she might wake up within the day, provided she..." he trailed off.

Platt nodded. "And Halstead?"

He shook his head.

"Take this," she insisted, handing him an envelope with the words _Hank Voight_ written on it. "I may not be your biggest fan, but one of your own is missing. Get him home." Voight nodded, taking the envelope and rushing up the stairs to talk to Olinsky and Ruzek.

"Al!" He called upon reaching the top. "What do we got?"

"Well," Ruzek began, rising from his seat and heading towards the whiteboard. "We gathered a list of all the people who have a grudge this serious with you...Well, as may as were on record. First, we cut out anyone who wouldn't have the guts or means to do this. In order to shorten the list further, we've been focussing on down to ones who might have a reason to go after Halstead and Lindsay specifically. Especially Halstead because he was taken, and that's more personal than a single shot. This," he slammed a large stack of papers on the desk nearest Voight. "Is the most narrowed down list, but we kept the original list on file, just in case."

Nadia came into the room with a couple sheets of paper. "I was able to get a hold of the information on the 9-1-1 call. The caller outside the Halstead's building. Sounded like a middle-aged woman and I wouldn't be surprised if she was a junkie. She sounded pretty messed up in the call."

"Good job Nadia," Olinsky complimented. "Stay here with Ruzek. See if you can narrow down the list any further-"

"This Goliath of a list?!" Ruzek complained loudly. "We're not going to be able to narrow it down to a small, easy-to-use list! Let me get out in the field and help! Halstead needs my help!"

Nadia, lightly, grabbed Ruzek's arm. When he turned to her, she just shook her head. Ruzek sighed.

"Nevermind," he sighed. "Go find him."

Olinksy shook his head at his partner, while Voight approached the younger detective. "We're going to find him, but only if you remember the chain of command and do as told."

Ruzek looked straight at his boss. "Yes sir."

"Now," Olinsky resumed. "Voight and I are going to check out a lead he found. Nadia, send a copy of the call to Dawson. Get him to go back the Halstead's place and sweep the area for anyone who recognizes the voice. Okay?"

The two nodded.

As the two older detectives left to go find the caller, Ruzek turned to the girl beside him. "What was that all about? Grabbing my arm?" He asked. Although he was frustrated, his tone hid it well.

"I know how you feel," she confessed a bit awkwardly. "Erin helped me out more than I ever thought possible. Now, she needs me and I feel useless. They will find Halstead, but they need our help. Here. Not out in the field."

The detective sighed. "Fine. I still don't like it."

"You don't have to," she said with a shrug, gaining some confidence.

"So...Any ideas on how to narrow down the list?" He wondered, as he picked up the stack of names and plopped down in his desk, placing the list on his desk.

"The simple way?" She suggested.

"I hate the simple way," Ruzek groaned. "One by one, it is. This is gonna take forever. Here," he said, pulling up a chair up beside him. "Let's get this party started."

* * *

><p>"Michelle Donovan," Voight announced, as he and his old partner sat in his car, outside a bar. "She's sort of like a manager for hit men-types. Pavelski said he heard she was the one who ended up organizing the kidnapping of the surgeon's daughter. She's supposed to work here."<p>

"That's all the little weasel gave you?"

"Trust me Al, if he knew more, he would've told me."

Olinsky smirked. "I'm sure."

"Are you ready?"

Olinsky nodded and the two got out of the car. They burst open the door of Royce's Bar and entered. Every head in the room turned to the two, clearly out of place, detectives. After all, most of the people in the bar were junkies or in early twenties.

"Michelle Donovan," Voight announced. "She's all I want."

"Michelle's out right now," Confessed the man at the bar.

The leader of intelligence walked up the bar and had a seat. He took out his gun and placed in on the counter, facing the bartender.

"Funny," Voight said. "I don't believe you. Al, check the place out."

Slowly, Olinsky made his way through the bar, telling customers to run out. Each did, when he flashed his badge. Meanwhile, Voight had a staring contest with the larger than average bartender.

Eventually, once all the customer's were out of the bar, Olinsky returned to his friend's side, his hand resting on his own firearm.

"You know," Voight said sternly. "I will blow your brains out if I have to."

The bartender laughed nervously. "You're a cop."

"Yeah. Sergeant Hank Voight."

The bartender froze, his face filled with shock. "Oh," was the only sound he made. Then he quickly turned and darted off into the back. Voight made a motion with his head, and Olinsky nodded and left the bar.

"Yeah," the bartender said, after returning a good five minutes. "She must've left."

"You sure?" Voight asked.

The bartender raise an eyebrow in confusion. He turned, following Voight's gaze, which was focussed on the entrance to the back. Olinsky was standing there, with a gun held to the head of a woman dressed in black short-shorts and a tan tank top. She had long, wild, balck hair.

"And this is..." Olinsky asked.

The bartender stumbled over himself, surely trying to come up with a good lie.

"Must be his girlfriend," Hank said, clearly not believing him. "I'm sure you would never lie to us. Would you?"

"Uh..."

"Damn it!" Michelle Donovan shrieked. "What do you bastards want with me?!"

"Answers," Voight promised. "Tell us what we want to know and you live...and you," he turned to the bartender. "You're probably already dead."

The large bartender squirmed uncomfortably. "I don't know nothing! I was just tryin' to protect my boss. It's my job. Surely, you can understand that. Right?!"

"Of course," he said, picking up his gun from the table. He pointed it straight at Michelle Donovan. "Al, take him down to the station."

"On what charges?!" The bartender cried out.

"I don't think he cares," Olinsky said with a soft shrug. "You," he said, turning to the woman. "Stay put." Then he led the bartender out of the bar, giving Voight a look that explicitly told him to be careful.

"Have a seat," Voight instructed, motioning with his gun.

Donovan didn't move a muscle.

"That's was a polite request. If I have to ask again, it won't be."

After a pause, she sat down next to Voight. Neither of them faced each other, instead they faced the other side of the bar.

"Tell me about Richard Blanc."

"Go to hell, she muttered."

Suddenly, Voight stood up and slammed her head into the counter. He then pushed her backwards so hard, he knocked her chair over, causing her to fall on the floor. The back of her head slammed into the floor with a loud _thud. _

Slowly, (while Donovan writhed on the floor, holding her, now bleeding, head) Voight rose to his feet and knelt down beside her. He pressed his firearm against her temple. She stopped writhing and stared him in the eye. She was terrified.

"I think we had a miscommunication," he whispered. "Richard Blanc?"

"Look, I just arranged the deal. Some guy, dropped off 50 grand and note at the bar, saying we'd get another 50 grand if we insured the death of a cop. It was a lot of cash man," she explained, practically crying from the pain in her head. "So I got one the guys I manage to hook up the kidnapping of their main surgeon's daughter. Told him, to make sure the next cop who came into the emergency room died. I needed the money to pay off some loans! It was just business!"

"Now, where is the girl? The surgeon's daughter?"

"I don't know," she cried softly. "I gave the job to one of my best guys. Man called Ripper. As long as I get my share, I don't care about the details. I don't even know his real name."

"Where can I find him?"

"He hangs out at a club down on 61st street! It's called Full Grey. That's where I find him."

"And the note? The cash?"

"I don't know who gave it to me! I came home and it was in my mailbox!"

"Have you gotten the 2nd half yet? The other 50 grand?"

Donovan shook her head. "Not yet no. The note said it would arrive around tomorrow evening if I got the job done." She paused. "But he won't drop it off. He said he'd watch this place. Now that he knows you're onto me, he won't give me the money. You might be able to get that surgeon's stupid girl, but your cop friend won't be avenged!"

Voight didn't say anything. Instead, he slammed the butt of his gun into her head and walked away.

* * *

><p>Olinsky put the bartender in the backseat and then hopped into the passenger seat. They sat in silence for a while.<p>

"What's your name?" He asked after the silence.

"Mitch," he replied. "Mitch Donovan."

"So she's your...sister?"

"Cousin."

"Ah. I see. You must've known about her business then. Let me guess, you're a part of it."

"I don't know nothing."

"Tell you what. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. Help me out and I'll let you go."

Mitch paused, weighing his options, but before he could speak, Voight jumped into the driver's seat.

"Is she...?" The bartender wondered before trailing off.

"She's probably got a concussion," Voight confessed.

Mitch fidgeted in his seat.

"You want to run to your cousin?" Olinsky asked. "Help us and we'll let you."

"What do you know about a man called Ripper? He's a...employee of the business you've got going on in there."

"I know Ripper. At least, I've seen him around a few times. I honestly don't know much about Michelle's work, especially her employee's. I just run the bar, you know, to make it all look legit."

"She said he frequents a place on 61st. A club called Full Grey."

"I really don't know if that's true or not."

"What do you know Mitch?" Olinsky asked with a groan.

"The 50 grand. The anonymous cash that Michelle got for some job. I saw the guy. I was stopping by her house the other night when he dropped it off. Thought it was suspicious, so I snapped a picture. It's hard to see his face though. He wore a dark hoodie with his hood up. It's on my phone. It's...uh...it's in my back pocket."

Olinsky looked at Voight who nodded. Olinsky got out of the car and let Mitch out. He took the cuffs off the bartender who abruptly handed him his phone and rushed back to the bar.

"Keep it!" he yelled as he rushed off. "I can buy a new one with the 50 grand anyways!"

When Olinsky got back in the car Voight was twirling an envelope in his hands.

"What's that?" Olinsky asked.

"You know," Voight replied, ignoring the question. "When Dawson brought that kid into intelligence I thought for sure he'd do something dumb enough to let me fire him within the week."

"Halstead?"

"He didn't though. As much as a hate to admit it, he's a good partner for Lindsay and a damn good cop. I've done a lot of things in my time as a cop, but..." Voight let out a heavy breath.

"What's in the envelope?"

"Platt gave it to me. She left a note explaining how she found it in her mailbox. No idea how it got there. They knew she'd give it to me. This is all about me. Not Lindsay. Not Halstead."

"What are you talking about?" Olinsky snapped, snatching the envelope from Voight. It was already torn open. He froze when he pulled out what was inside.

"I always thought my actions would come back to haunt me, but just me. Not anyone on my team."

Olinsky stared at Voight in sheer horror.

The content of the envelope was a photo. It featured Jay Halstead, hanging by his hands from the ceiling (held up by thick chain). He had his head hanging (surely unconscious), but it was still clear that he had a large gash on his forehead and a brightening bruise on his left cheek. His bare feet, were just millimetres of the ground. His shirt was removed, revealing burn marks and cuts. Blood ran all across his torso.

On the photo was a message written in bright red marker.

_This is on you._

* * *

><p><em>I hope you all enjoyed. I even added a sneak peek of the Jay whump as requested. I plan on having Erin wake up next chapter, or maybe the one after that. Either way, she is certainty not out of the woods yet. Also, next chapter, I'll feature Dawson searching for the 9-1-1 caller and maybe Voight and Olinsky looking for the surgeon and his daughter. I'll probably have something with Atwater tonight's brilliant episode has gotten me even more into his character! I know this chapter may not be my best work, I just really wanted to get this out to all of you!<em>

**Next Chapter: **

**Chapter 4: I Think I'm Moving, But I Go Nowhere**


	4. I Think I'm Moving, But I Go Nowhere

_Sorry this update took so long. I did write in a scene that you guys requested at the end, so I hope it makes up for how long it took. Thanks again for the heart-warming reviews, you all make my day every time I check my reviews...and 47 follows and 17 favs?! I'm blown away! I love you all and I hope you enjoy!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: I Think I'm Moving, But I Go Nowhere<strong>

**(Stop and Stare – One Republic)**

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><p>"And you're sure you didn't hear anything? The caller claimed to have heard gunshots. Surely, you heard something."<p>

"I was wide awake all night hun, and I didn't hear any more than a peep."

"Alright thank you," Dawson repeated for what was surely the one hundredth time that day. "Make sure to call in if you remember anything that might be useful."

"Sure thing hun," The elderly woman in room 208 replied before shutting her door.

Dawson sighed and turned to the right. Roman, to the detectives surprise, was standing there.

"That's it for this floor," The cop announced.

"That was fast," Dawson confessed.

"Well a lot of people simply didn't recognize the voice. Many weren't home, and one guy just wanted nothing to do with me."

"Roman. If they shut the door in your face, you shove it open into theirs. If they know anything, we need their help. Halstead needs our help."

Roman nodded. "You're right, I'll go back over the room."

"I'll go with you. Lead the way."

The two walked down the hall and stopped in front of a room labelled 202. "It was a tall guy. Slammed the door right in my face and told me to bugger off when he saw my badge."

"And you didn't think that that was suspicious."

"Of course I did, but I don't have a warrant or any kind of way to make him talk to me."

Dawson sighed. "Lindsay was shot. Halstead is missing. You make him talk to you. Screw warrants. Whatever it takes."

Roman nodded, then knocked on the door. A white man with short, brown hair loomed over the pair. He was at least 6''4 and in his mid-20's.

"Thought I told you to bugger off pipsqueak," the man snapped.

Both the Roman and Dawson's hands went to their guns at the sight of the aggressive man. "Yeah well," Dawson said with a shrug. "I didn't really care."

Roman nodded. "Look, we really need to know if you help us."

"Well sorry, but I can't," the man growled as he moved to shut the door.

He stopped when he realized that Dawson was pointing a gun right at him. "Close that door and I will put every bullet in my clip into it."

The man's tough expression slipped off his face. "We don't want any trouble. She called 9-1-1 like she's supposed to. She shouldn't get punished for that."

Roman shook his head. "One of our guys is missing, another is in the hospital. If you help us find them we really don't care what kind of life you lead." He looked to Dawson, who nodded reassuringly.

"Honest," The detective promised.

The man sighed. "Fine, come in."

He lead the two men into the apartment and shut the door behind them. Once they were all sitting down around his dining table he resumed talking.

"What's your name?" Roman asked.

"David. David Jeffery."

"I'm Officer Roman and this is Detective Dawson with the intelligence unit."

"Now," Dawson began. "Tell us about what happened."

"I was working late, stayed until 2 in the morning. I honestly just got home less than three hours ago. We needed the extra cash, Cassidy and I. She was at home alone. She was supposed to be at rehab, but she backed out last minute."

"Cassidy? She you're girlfriend?"

"No. She's just friend. She's made some bad choices, but she's trying to turn it all around. Thought I'd let her stay with me until she'd gotten on the clean and narrow. It's...it's been taking a while."

Dawson nodded. "My unit, we know a lot about that kind of thing. She's not going to be in any trouble as long as she tells us all about earlier tonight."

David nodded. "I'll go get her." He walked away and returned a minute later with a girl, also in her mid-20's, with long black hair. She had shaky hands and kept wiping sweat off of her forehead.

"Is she going through withdrawal?" Roman blurted.

David helped Cassidy to her seat before turning back to the two men. "She's trying really hard to get clean and keep it a secret. She just graduated law school and she's terrified of screwing that up. That's why she bailed on rehab. She's downright paranoid," he added with a sarcastic smile.

The girl nodded, smiling slightly. "Y-yeah."

Dawson sighed. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."

"D-don't. It's- It's my mess. I gotta fix it."

The detective nodded. "Well Cassidy, tell us about the 9-1-1 call that you made last night."

"W-Well...I-It was around 1am. I-I think. I h-heard a noise." With a shaky hand, Cassidy pointed to her window. "From outside. I went to check it out. I thought- I thought I was imagining it. I wasn't. There was a big car. A van. A-A black SUV. This man. He came out with a strange looking gun. I-It was small, but long.

"Like a pistol with a silencer?"

"M-Maybe. I-I don't know...I-I was just s-so scared."

"Did he see you?" Dawson asked.

"I-I don't think so. I-I couldn't even see his face. It was real dark, but I saw- I saw the gun."

"So you called the cops?"

She shook her head, tears beginning to fall from her eyes. "I thought- I thought he was coming for me."

"Why would you think that?"

Cassidy gulped. "I- I owe some people."

The two men nodded. "But he wasn't here for you," Roman concluded.

She shook her head again. "But- But I didn't know that. I-I just- I just decided it was b-best to run- to get out. So, I-I went to the safe."

"It's where I keep some emergency money," David explained. "In case anyone from her past does come. She's supposed to get the cash and run."

Cassidy nodded. "I-I was s-so shaky, it took me a couple minutes to o-open it, but I did, I shoved the money in my pockets and I- I ran for the door, but as I did, he got off the elevator. I ducked b-back inside. I grabbed my phone to call- to call..." She took a deep breath to calm herself. "I- I called David, but he didn't- he didn't pick up. I called again and again and again. That's when I realized he couldn't have been after me. He- He would've got be by then. So...so I opened my door and saw the guy leaving. He was waiting at the door."

"What?" Dawson exclaimed.

"That's- That's what I thought, so I kept watching quietly. After a minute or so, A woman came up. And-"

"A woman?" Roman repeated. "Are you sure?"

She nodded frantically. "Absolutely. I didn't get a good look at her face, but- but she was definitely a she."

Dawson and Roman shared a shocked look. "Continue."

"There's- There's not much else to say," Cassidy admitted. "She was had long hair, and was d-definitely a she, but that's- that's all I could tell."

"What happened next?" Roman asked.

"S-She...H-he lead her into the apartment. A bit later she left. Then- Then he followed, carrying a guy. I- I couldn't see what he looked like. It was real dark, but i-it's pr-probably your guy right? Your friend?"

Dawson nodded.

"I-I'm sorry," she confessed. "I- I don't know where they went, but- but I-"

"Why did you say that you heard gunshots?" Dawson asked. "Not a kidnapping?"

"I- I went to check out the a-apartment. I-" she looked around as if she was embarrassed. "I thought maybe- maybe they had some- some...some...some..."

"You thought it was drug related and you wanted some," Dawson summarized.

Tears were streaming Cassidy's face. "L-look at me. I- I'm a wreck. I- I just w-wanted a- a w- way to make it easier, I- I didn't want t-to get high or nothing."

Dawson sighed. "And you saw Lindsay bleeding out."

"I- I didn't touch her. I- I didn't want to make it worse. I just ran out of there and called 9-1-1."

"You didn't mention the kidnapping?"

"I was afraid there'd be some big-name unit bursting down our door, if I c-called in a kidnapping. I j-just didn't want the lady to d-die. She's-She's okay right?"

Dawson sighed again. "I don't know. Look. Here's my card. You ever need more help getting clean you call that number. We won't write a report on this, just...just call in _everything_ next time okay?"

She nodded. "Th-thank you."

"Roman," Dawson instructed as they made their way out of the apartment. "I need to call Voight and everyone else. You should go to the hospital, see if Atwater needs anything...or knows anything. He should also know that we're looking for a woman."

"You think she was orchestrating all this?" the cop wondered.

"I really hope so."

Roman paused. "Why do you say that?"

"'Cause if she's not, then this crime has even more tiers. Let's just hope that this is as high as it goes. If this goes much higher..."

"We might never catch them all."

Dawson let out a heavy breath. "We may never find Halstead."

* * *

><p>"Yeah," Atwater said. "The doctor's say we can afford to be <em>'cautiously optimistic.'<em>"

"I see," Voight sighed. "When do they say she's to wake up?"

"Any minute now, but they were very insistent that we keep in mind that her waking up doesn't mean she's out of the woods."

"I'll keep that in mind. Call me back as soon as she wakes up."

"Yes sir."

"Oh, and Atwater..." Voight paused. "I'm sending you something right...now. I'm sending it to everyone in the unit. Whatever you do, don't show it to Erin."

Atwater raised an eyebrow. "Why? What is-"

Gunshots rang out through the halls of the hospital. Atwater shot to his feet from his chair, by Erin's side.

"What the hell was that Atwater?" Voight demanded.

"I don't- I'll call you back in a sec."

"Damn it Atwater!" Voight called out, but it was a moot point. Atwater had put his phone down on Erin's bedside table and rushed off.

Atwater had his gun drawn as he exited the hallway. He grabbed the arm off a scared nurse as she ran past him.

"Which way?" He demanded.

She pointed down the hall. "About five rooms down." Atwater thanked the nurse and let her continue on her way, as he headed down to the source of the gunshots. He checked each room as he went. Soon, he entered one, gun drawn, and found himself pointing his gun at a man who was holding a woman at gunpoint.

"Don't move!" The man screamed.

"Please," the woman sobbed. "Don't hurt me. I'm due to be released tomorrow!"

"Shut up!" The man yelled.

Atwater looked at the woman. "What is your name?"

She sobbed, "Lisa."

The man looked from Atwater to Lisa frantically, clearly confused by the way they ignored him.

"Why are you in the hospital Lisa?"

"I- I was in a car accident. I'm almost all better. They just- They just wanted to be careful."

"My name is Kevin and I'm going to get you out of this okay?"

"Why are you ignoring me?!" The man screamed.

Atwater looked at the man. "Because your name is Richard Blanc and you're here to kill the detective you thought you finished off in the OR a few hours ago. You're only doing what you have to do to save your daughter. You don't want to kill the detective, but you feel you have no choice. You have a choice with Lisa here. You won't actually kill her."

The surgeon stared in awe for a moment. "I- I- No! I will do whatever it takes to save Shelby! She's my daughter!"

"And Lisa? Do you think she isn't someone's daughter?"

"M-My mother's dead. I'm all my father has. Please. He can't lose me too," Lisa sobbed.

"Let her go, Richard. She doesn't need to be here," Atwater insisted.

"They'll kill Shelby!"

"My unit is working on it right now. They'll get her back, but not if you hurt that detective. Her name is Erin Lindsay and she's like a daughter to the man trying to find your daughter. Come with me, and you can help us find your daughter."

"I- I can't."

"You can. Besides, do you really think they'll just give her back to you? These guys, they're professionals. Your daughter is just one more variable. They will kill her once you kill detective Lindsay."

Richard Blanc began to cry as he let Lisa go. She ran off immediately.

"I just want her back," he sobbed as he dropped to his knees.

"I know," Atwater said softly as he placed his cuffs around the man's wrists. He lead the man out the room.

"Detective Atwater!" Roman called. "Dawson to see if you needed anything but..." he surveyed the surroundings. "...I guess not."

Atwater chuckled. "I should go back to Lindsay, so if you could take him to the precinct it'd be a big help. You should also let Voight know we have him."

"Sure thing. Just one question. Who is he?"

The detective sighed, "Dr. Richard Blanc. Ruzek can explain the rest."

Roman nodded and took off with the surgeon, while Atwater returned to Lindsay's room. He froze when he entered.

She was kneeling on the floor, tangled in her blanket (from half-falling, half-jumping out of her bed). Her hospital gown was red where she had been shot. She'd surely reopened the wound. Tears were streaming down her face as she frantically punched numbers into Atwater's cell phone, which she clutched like a life-line.

"_Whatever you do, don't show it to Erin." _Voight's words ran through Atwater's head.

He knelt down in front of Lindsay and tried to take the phone from her. She abruptly pulled it closer to her.

"Lindsay, you're hurt," he tried.

"He's not picking up," she murmured as she resumed dialling.

"Who? Voight?"

"No. He-" She trailed off as she pressed the phone against her ear and waited in silence.

"Lindsay, who are you calling?" Atwater asked after a pause

"No," she cried, pulling the phone away from her ear. "I-I-I'm calling Jay. He's not picking up."

Atwater began to speak, but froze when she showed him the thing that Voight that had sent him. It was the photo of Jay hanging by his hands, with the warning written in red marker.

Lindsay began to sob uncontrollably as Atwater wrapped his arms around her.

"Tell me it's not real."

As the nurses and doctors rushed into the room, Atwater said nothing. As they took Lindsay from his arms and placed her and wheeled her back off, he said nothing. It wasn't until the messy room was completely silent that he finally spoke.

"It's not real," he whispered.

But it was more of a foolish prayer for his own sake than an answer to her question.

* * *

><p><em>Alright, so that took forever to figure out how to write. I'm sorry it took so long and it's probably not my best work, but I hope you liked it. I don't know if that last scene was OOC on Erin's part, but I just really wanted to give you guys the completely heart-broken reaction I think you all wanted.<em>

_In case there's any confusion, Erin woke up while Atwater was gone and saw the photo that Voight had sent. She fell of her bed trying to stand up and began frantically calling Jay, hoping it wasn't real._

_Let me know if you're still confused (I did write this at midnight) and I'll try to clear it up. Let me know what you guys thought and what you want next. Next chapter is Voight and Olinsky finding Shelby Blanc. Ruzek and Nadia will also be able to greatly narrow the list thanks to Dawson and Roman's discovery and maybe more of Erin's grief. We'll see what you all want._

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><p><strong>Next Chapter:<strong>

**Chapter 5: They'll Fall Down, But You'll Fall First**


	5. They'll Fall Down, But You'll Fall First

_I read through all your reviews and I'd like to say thanks again for the awesome support! I appreciate it all so much and your support continues to blow me away. Sorry that I couldn't post this chapter sooner. I've been crazy busy. I had to stay up to 4am to get this out to you all._

_It seemed like with the last chapter, there were a lot of reviews with similar requests/questions so I'm just going to go over a couple of the main ones for all of you._

_ -It seems like a lot of you are looking forward to the feelings of Voight, Erin and the other members of Intelligence, which is awesome since that was one of the main reasons that I wrote this story, to delve into the team's family-like-feelings (that was a terrible explanation)...anyways, yes. There will be lots of feels._

_ -I will not be doing a section with Jay's perspective. I'm not doing this to be evil. I'm just afraid I'll end up revealing a bunch of spoilers I didn't mean to have revealed quite yet ('cause I'm unorganized like that) and secondly, I want you to go through the mystery with Voight and the team. I'm really sorry if that makes you sad. I'll try to have them discover a bit more about Jay's condition in the next chapters, but I won't be revealing anything to you that Voight (or the rest of the unit) doesn't know as well._

_I think that covers the two main points. On with the chapter. Please enjoy._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: They'll Fall Down, But You'll Fall First<strong>**  
><strong>

**(Fortress – Dala)**

* * *

><p>"For the hundredth time, I just got that text message that told me what to do. Plus, I got a picture, an hour or so ago, not long before I returned to the hospital, as if they were getting impatient. They said to send a reply message with a picture of the detective's body and when I didn't, they sent the photo. I was going to sneak back into the morgue and take it, but the nurses said she survived and I panicked. I don't know anything else! I swear!" Dr. Blanc cried. "Now please find my daughter!"<p>

"This photo?" Ruzek asked, his voice dangerously quiet. He slide the surgeon's phone back over to him, with an image of a ten year girl tied to a chair with duct tape over her mouth. Aside from a small bruise forming on right cheek and clear signs of a lot of tears, she seemed fine.

"Yes, that's my little girl. I- I was going to have her back before her mother even knew about it. I couldn't let her see that picture. She'd freak."

Ruzek pulled out his own phone and tapped it a few times. "What about this photo? Would this make her freak?" He asked, all too calmly, showing Dr. Blanc the photo he had received from Voight not too long ago.

The surgeon cringed and turned his head away, but said nothing.

"His name is Detective Jay Halstead and he's my friend."

"I-" The surgeon gagged. "I know nothing about that."

Ruzek shot to his feet and slammed his hands on the table. "Give me something I can work with! Do you want your damn daughter back?!"

"Yes! Yes!" He sobbed. "Please believe me! I don't know anything."

Ruzek growled. "If I find out you're lying to me and something happens to my friend because of it...I promise, you will _never_ see Shelby again." Without waiting for a response, the detective scooped up the two phones and began to leave the room.

"Wait!" The surgeon called. Ruzek turned around, his hand remaining on the door's handle. "They promised to return her if I killed the female cop. They gave me their word. You- you have to find my daughter."

Ruzek let out an angry breath and stormed out.

"Nothing useful I take it?" Roman asked when Ruzek entered the main room of intelligence. The street cop and Nadia had been continuing to shift through files (keeping in mind the new intel that one of the perps was a woman) ever since Roman came back to the precinct with the surgeon.

Ruzek threw back his head as he plopped down at his desk. "That idiot doesn't know anything. He's just another pawn. Another damn layer."

"Atwater called," Nadia mentioned, trying to raise the spirits. "Erin's fine- well at least as fine as she was before her...episode."

"I'd have reacted the same. If I'd been shot and I came to to see a photo of Bur- my partner like that...I'd lose it."

Nadia and Roman nodded (both at least having a general idea that he and Burgess were an item).

"What do you guys have?" Ruzek asked.

"Less than before, still too much," Roman summarized. "It's not enough."

"Anything on the photo Voight sent us? The one with the man dropping the money."

Nadia shrugged. "Platt called in a favour, got a man called Ranger to help out. He's some kind of technical specialist she knows. Anyways, she's got him to look into that photo and the..._other two. _So far, nothing."

Ruzek threw his head in his hands. "All this work and we're no closer to finding Halstead."

"It's only been a few hours-" Roman tried.

"To hell with a few hours!" Ruzek snapped, swiping files from his desk as he shot to his feet. "Every damn second we spend looking for him is a second we haven't found him! A second that they- whoever they are- have him!"

"Ruzek, we know," Nadia said quietly.

"If I'm not interrupting..." Platt said, appearing at the top of the stairs. "The tech specialist- Roger or something- he may have gotten something on the photo."

"Which one?" Ruzek asked hopefully. "The perp, Halstead or the Blanc girl?"

"All of them."

* * *

><p>"Chicago PD! Open up!"<p>

"Hey now!" came a woman's voice, as she hurriedly opened the door to Full Grey bar. "We don't want any trouble," she promised. "Just put down those guns and come in."

The two detective's did as she requested and entered the bar. The woman, who had bright pink hair and a black biker's jacket, led them to a table and took down the chairs for them. She motioned for them to sit as she sat down herself. They followed suit.

"Y'all are real lucky," she mentioned. "We closed up a few hours ago, but tonight we had some pretty crazy partying. I had to hang around to clean up, was just 'bout finished up."

"I don't know if lucky's a good word," Olinsky muttered.

"Call it what 'cha will. What're two detective's doing at this place at this time of the morning anyway? Don't you guys ever sleep?"

"Not tonight," Voight admitted. "We're looking for a man called Ripper. We heard he frequents this joint."

"Ah, Rip. Yeah I know him. What do you all want with Rip? He up to no good again?"

"What do you mean by 'again'?"

"Cops are always coming around here looking for Rip. You're the second bunch in under a year. I don't know Rip's real name and I ain't seen him since...oh, two nights ago, which is strange. He usually stops by every night."

"When did the last couple cops come by?" Voight asked.

"I dunno, must've been close a good 6 months. You know what, come to think of it...It was the day that the Blackhawks got knocked out of the playoffs by the Kings. There was such a huge mess. Let me check my phone...Hang tight."

"June 1st. Lost 5-4 in Overtime," Olinsky blurted. "I remember that game. I don't usually watch a lot of hockey, but Ruzek insisted for some reason."

Voight smiled. "Of course he did."

"Sounds about right," The woman added.

"Do remember anything about the cops that came to talk to you? Or why they wanted Ripper?"

She shrugged. "Bits and pieces sure. If I saw 'em I might remember them, but I couldn't draw you up a sketch or nothing. I think it was a man and a woman. They were asking about...ugh...they said Rip was involved in a hired hit or some sort of thing."

"Did they say who it was on?"

"Nope, but I do remember that they said that Rip wasn't in any actual trouble. Said as long as he gave them the man of whoever ordered the hit they'd let him go. I asked Rip 'bout it the next day, he said that he was a free man, so I'm guessing they found the guy."

Voight nodded. "Would you be able to come down to the precinct and look at some photos of our officers?"

"Officers? No sir, they were detectives, like you two. Wore street clothes."

"Is that a yes?" Olinsky asked impatiently.

"As I said detective, I don't any trouble. You promise not to tell anyone that I helped and don't put me in your report, I'm all yours."

"We just want Ripper."

"Well then, I'm mostly done here anyways. Let's go."

* * *

><p>"Boss!" Ruzek called out when he saw Olinsky and Voight enter the precinct. "We've got something!"<p>

"Good. Us too," Olinsky announced. "This woman may be able to help us find the man who has the surgeon's daughter."

"Well we have something on the photos of the surgeon's girl, Halstead and the other one you sent us. The one with the perp."

"Then Olinsky, you go with Ruzek. I'll see if I can find out anything from the detectives who asked about Ripper six months ago," Voight instructed.

"Okay, follow me," Ruzek said to his partner, leading him off.

Voight went up the stairs with the woman, who had revealed her name to be Elizabeth. He sat her down in the room beside his office and left her to go talk to Nadia.

"Got anything good?"

"Nothing yet. We've narrowed down the list quite a bit thanks to Dawson and Roman's tip, but..." She shook her head sympathetically.

Voight sighed. "I need a list of any hits that were investigated around June 1st."

"How much is 'around'? Are we talking weeks?"

"Closed after a couple days."

"Alright, it'll just take a minute."

"And make sure to only give me the results of partners who worked it, boy and girl."

"I'll get right on it."

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>"This is Ranger," Ruzek announced. "He's a friend of Platt's."<p>

"Friend might be stretching it a bit. Let's just say...I owe her."

"Great. What do we got?" Olinsky asked, clearly not caring much. He and Ruzek had entered a small room, which held Roman, Ranger (a short, glasses-wearing man) and a couple computers.

"Well," The short man said. "I started with the photo of your perp and I'm afraid I wasn't of much help their. The face was mostly concealed by the hood, but I was able to polish up the image and get a clear shot of his mouth and facial hair. Of course, there is always the chance that he may have shaven his beard by this point, but I can tell you that this person is male."

"Of course he is. Heaven forbid, we stay at the number of crooks we already have," the older detective groaned.

"Maybe not," Roman suggested. "It's possible it's the same guy who shot Lindsay. There _is _always the chance that it's another goon, but I doubt this guy's higher up the food chain than the woman Dawson's witness saw."

Olinsky shrugged. "Continue," he sighed.

"Well I printed out a copy with the highest resolution I could. I honestly don't know how much it'll help. It's more to verify than find the guy to be honest," Ranger explained.

Olinsky's face dropped. He had clearly been expecting more.

"Hey wait," Ruzek blurted. "Tell him about the other two."

"Oh yeah. I also compared the backgrounds of the two photos," Ranger admitted, as he popped up the two images on his screens. He zoomed in on a specific portion of the wall. "The wall's pretty much the same in both photos...and by 'pretty much,' I mean damn near identical- I'd bet my life saving's on it being the same wall."

"So, wherever Shelby is- Halstead is?" Olinsky asked hopefully.

"I doubt it," Ranger confessed, moving the focus of the screen to small puddle of blood beneath Halstead and the small pool beneath Shelby Blanc's chair. "Look at these puddles. It's hard to tell, and I could be wrong-"

"Just get on with it," Ruzek moaned.

"Sorry. Anyways, if you look at the photo of your man, the blood looks less dry. Like it's fresh. The puddle in the second photo looks older, dry," the specialist continued. "If I had to guess, they tortured your friend and then packed up, bringing the girl there to urge the surgeon to hurry it up."

"So Halstead's long gone," Olinsky said with yet another sigh.

"Like, I said," Ranger resumed. "That's my guess, but it is possible he's just in a different room."

"I wouldn't bet much on it," the oldest detective stated. "But this does mean that we really need to find this Ripper and now. He knows more about Halstead than we thought."

"It doesn't make much sense though," Roman blurted. "I thought he was hired randomly through the bartender you and Voight talked to."

"So did we."

"Voight?" Olinsky asked as he, Ruzek headed up the stairs to intelligence with Roman at their heels. Their boss had been going down. "Where are you going."

"The cops who went to talk to Elizabeth about Ripper; they were Halstead and Lindsay."

"What?" Roman asked.

"We were still looking into Jin's death at the time, when we got handed the case of the hit of a criminal defence lawyer, Barbra James. In order to continue to work on Jin's case, I assigned just the two of them to the case while we continued investigating Jin," explained Voight

"I remember that," Ruzek added. "They didn't want to stop investigating Jin's death."

The boss nodded. "Nadia's looking up their case files. Ruzek and Roman, you two need to go help her."

"And while you're at it, run our half-face sketch past Elizabeth. See if it rings any bells," suggested Olinsky. "We going to the hospital Voight?"

Voight agreed. "Atwater did say she was due to wake up again soon."

Ruzek and Roman nodded. "Call when you know anything?" Ruzek half asked, half stated.

And with that the four split up.

* * *

><p>Voight was sitting at Lindsay's bedside. He'd sent Atwater to join Dawson at the crime scene for a little while. Apparently, Dawson had decided to to do his own little side investigation involving some evidence the CSI's had found. He'd promised to inform Voight, immediately, if it led anywhere.<p>

Olinsky was roaming through the hospital, surely terrorizing some unsuspecting nurse or doctor about the condition of Lindsay. After all, all they knew was that she was stable "for the moment."

"Hank?" came a tired voice.

Shaken from his thoughts, he looked down at Lindsay. Her eyes were closed, but she was conscious.

"Yeah, it's me."

"Strangest thing," she whispered. "I had this terrible nightmare. I was watching TV at Halstead's and someone came in and shot me. Jay...he rushed to help me, but..." she opened her eyes and stared at her father figure. "I fell asleep. I woke up. I fell asleep. I woke up again and still wasn't a nightmare."

Voight put a hand on Erin's. "We will find him Erin. I promise you."

"And if you don't?" she whispered, tears making her eyes look made of glass. "What he becomes an empty desk that just gets filled in time? A photograph that no one wants to look at because it hurts too much? What if he becomes Jules? What if he becomes Jin?"

"Their names do all start will J."

"Voight," she whispered, half laughing, half crying.

"Sorry," he whispered back.

"What if he never makes another sarcastic remark like the one you just made?"

"He will."

"And if he doesn't?!" she cried out. "I have every faith in you. I know you'll try, but what happens if it's not enough this time?"

Voight shook his head a shrugged. "We fight," he decided. He put his face in his hands for a brief moment, then looked Erin in the eye again. "We fight and we fight until they are all dead, until we aren't sure if we hate or love ourselves."

"And then what?" she sobbed softly.

"I don't know Erin," he confessed. "How many years since Camille died and I still don't know what comes next."

She looked at the ceiling, and thought of her partner. "I was his backup. I was in the room with him, and I let him down."

"You're right. You were his backup, but now...Now we all are. So let's find him. Let's get the bastards who did this," he said, giving her hand a light squeeze.

She looked back at Voight. "How?" she asked, motioning to the hospital bed.

"What do remember about a hitman called Ripper?"

"Ripper?"

"June 1st-"

"I remember...I..." she trailed off, taking deep breaths. "He killed Barbra James. She was a lawyer. I remember the case well. We didn't want to take it. We wanted to avenge Jin."

"I remember."

Erin took a heavy breath to regain her composure and grabbed Voight's upper arm with the hand he wasn't holding. "We have to find Jay now."

* * *

><p><em>Yay! I finally finished it. SSSSSOOOO SOOORRRRYYY for the long time it took to update. I'll try to do better. I really did try my best to make it up to you with this episode. There wasn't really any Voight ass kicking, but I put in a touching ErinVoight, with hints of Linstead scene at the end that hopefully ends to atone for the long time and the cliff hanger (oops). The next chapter will look into a lot of things. They will finally find Shelby Blanc (if they don't it will definitely happen the chapter after). Please forgive any grammatical or spelling errors (I did write this at 3am)_

_I realized I left Burgess out of my story, if you want me to bring her into it, I can do that (maybe add in some Burzek moments) (is that what it's called?)._

_Oh, and sorry about the "they do all start with J" line. I literally could not force myself to delete it. So sorry if it's OOC_

_Anyways, I really hope you liked this chapter. I did my best, please don't hate me for how long it took. I love all you guys so much. Please let me know what you want to see next._

**Next Chapter:**

**Chapter 6: Lost My Strength When You Lost Your Fight**


	6. Lost My Strength When You Lost You Fight

_I love all your lovely reviews, and so I feel really bad about how little I update. I didn't really think a lot of people would read my story, so I was kind of taken off guard when I got all the support. I write these chapters as I go, so if I'm slow on an update it's 'cause I'm thinking through the best way to write a portion (which is the main reason it took me so long to get this chapter out to you all). In order to make this a more organized system of posting new chapters, I'm going to make Sunday the day I'll post. I know it's a week long to wait, (I'm sorry, I'm just really busy), but it will ensure that you know when to expect new chapters, while giving me time sufficient time to write the chapters so that the quality of the story does not go down. This also gives me time to take all your reviews and incorporate them into the story, potentially as soon as the next chapter._

_If you have any concerns or comments, feel free to PM me. I really do appreciate all the support and reviews, so I really hope you'll continue to enjoy the story._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6: Lost My Strength When You Lost Your Fight<strong>

**(Out Alive – Kris Allen)**

* * *

><p>"Barbra James," Ruzek announced, smacking his hand against the photo pinned up on the whiteboard. "She was a criminal defence lawyer, notorious for getting the worst of the worst off Scott-free on technicalities. She was killed in the middle of the afternoon on June 1st. Halstead and Lindsay caught the case.<p>

"There are some gaps in the file as to how they figured it out, but the only charges laid, were against one Greg Hendricks. According to the file, Barbra had represented his brother, Mark Hendricks about a month back on a murder trial. Mark had been accused of getting in a bar fight and killing another guy: a Jordan Rikoza. Apparently, Barbra didn't live up to expectations and Greg called out a hit on her because of it."

"However," he continued, "Greg never made it back to the precinct. Lindsay and Halstead got caught up in a hit and run while transporting him. Their injuries were nothing more than scratches, but Greg ended up with two bullets in his head from whoever hit him. They never did identify who the man was since he was wearing a mask. They were pros. Took the shots and got away before Lindsay or Halstead had any idea what was happening."

"Damn," Roman summarized. "And they never got any leads onto who the shooter was?"

"Not that the file reads."

Then, as if on cue, Ruzek's phone went off. Voight's name appeared on the screen. He answered abruptly, and put it on speaker.

"Boss. How's Lindsay? Did she give you anything?"

"Easy Ruzek," Voight insisted. "She's fine for now. Olinsky hunted down a doctor who told us that her internal bleeding was under control and the bullet wound was also looking better. She's not quite out of the woods, but it's looking up."

"What'd she say about Ripper?" Ruzek asked, much more at ease after hearing Lindsay's condition was looking up. "We pulled up the file and we know about the Hendricks brothers and how Greg was taken out, but it doesn't mention Ripper."

"They left it out of the file. They promised Ripper they would, if he gave them whoever hired him and it all panned out."

"That doesn't explain how they found out Ripper was the guy who did the hit. Did they also go through Donovan?"

"Not exactly. They asked around, you know, CI's and people of the neighbourhood. Apparently, Ripper had been boasting about a 'new business opportunity' that had come his way. Halstead and Lindsay were able to convince him that they had enough dirt on him to bury him alive, so he coughed up his client; Greg Hendricks."

Ruzek nodded. "Well that gives us just about nothing useful. How the hell are Ripper and the Hendricks' connected to you?"

Voight sighed, "I don't know, but it's no coincidence that it was Halstead and Lindsay who caught that case. Olinsky and I are going to swing by Donovan's bar again, maybe she knows a little more than she let on. I need you to head over to the hospital, make sure no one comes after Lindsay again. Atwater's with Dawson following up on a lead."

"Sure thing boss."

"Roman," Voight resumed, "You and Nadia go back over Greg Hendricks death. Lindsay says they weren't able to dig up anything solid on it, but maybe a fresh set of eyes will help. See if the bartender knows anything about it."

"Elizabeth?" Nadia asked.

"That's the one. I take it she's still at the precinct."

"Yes Boss."

"Good. Ruzek?"

"Yeah Boss?"

"Get your ass over here."

"Of course I'm coming."

With that, Voight hung up.

* * *

><p>He and Olinsky were standing outside Lindsay's hospital room at the moment, since (although she had drifted off to sleep again), they didn't want to risk her over hearing anything. They just wanted her to focus on getting better.<p>

"You didn't tell them," Olinsky pointed out.

Voight turned to his old friend. "They don't need to know."

"Like hell," Olinsky snapped, somehow managing to keep his voice more-or-less calm. "It's part of the case. Everyone needs to know as much as possible. This really isn't the time to compartmentalize."

"This is exactly the time to compartmentalize," the sergeant retorted. "Emotions are running high. Everyone is pulling out all the stops to find these bastards. They're going to lose their heads sooner or later. We need to avoid putting any more pressure on them."

Olinsky ran his hands over his face. "Hank. You know what Lindsay said. Ripper's dangerous."

Voight nodded. "I got that much."

"I get that you're trying to help out. Emotions are running high, but the first person whose going to lose their head is you. You need to realize that it's not your fault Hank."

"Yes it is," he said dangerously quiet.

"You didn't shoot Lindsay. You didn't take Halstead."

"Maybe not, but I'm still to blame. Just like the photo said; this is on me. We both know I've done enough things in my past to earn this hatred. They didn't. They just...they just worked under me. That's not their fault Alvin. It's mine. Now...Now Lindsay's in a damn hospital bed and Halstead's being held by god-knows-who!"

"I know Hank," Olinsky said quietly. "Let's just take a step back, go over what we know."

"There's a man and a woman. They took Halstead and the man shot Lindsay. They reached out to Donovan who put Ripper on the case of ensuring Lindsay died. Ripper was a part of a case that Lindsay and Halstead worked, in which, the man who hired Ripper was murdered by an unknown party," Voight summarized, occasionally pausing to take a deep breath in an attempt to calm down.

"Seems like a hell of a coincidence," Olinsky admitted.

"This would all be much less confusing if I believed in coincidences."

Olinsky laughed, but it died off when he looked back at Lindsay's room.

"_Ripper's the man who has Jay?" _Lindsay had asked.

"_We're not sure. He is the one who took the daughter of the surgeon who tried to kill you...and where she is...Halstead was," _Voight had summarized.

"_Ripper...he was off Hank. Really off. I felt uneasy about letting him walk away, but it was the only way to get him to give us the client."_

"_And there was no middle-man? A Michelle Donovan?"_

"_That doesn't ring any bells, but look, Hank...The bartender, when she told us about Ripper, she warned us that he wouldn't tell a cop anything, but he was a sucker for a pretty girl. Jay and I, we decided it would be best if I went to talk to him alone...you know, flirt a bit, get him bragging. He just started talking away."_

_Erin swallowed hard._

"_He said a lot of things Hank, but his eyes lit up like christmas lights at one point. It was when he told me how he loved...how he loved explosives. He loved to test different kinds of trigger mechanisms. Weight, light, touch, heat, you name it. He just loved all of it. Hank, if he has Jay..."_

_Voight put his hand on Lindsay's shoulder. "These guys are professionals. I'm not sure how they pulled it off, but they meant for it to be Ripper. Every step is planned. The fact that Ripper's an explosives enthusiast..."_

"_You have to find him Hank."_

"I'm here boss!" Ruzek called out, rushing towards to two senior detectives from down the hall.

Voight was shaken from his thoughts. "Good. Watch Lindsay," was all he said before walking off.

"He gonna be okay?" Ruzek asked Olinsky quietly, once Voight was out of ear-shot.

"Would you be?" He replied before joining his old friend on his way out of the hospital.

Ruzek sighed and walked into Lindsay's room. He put his hand on one of hers as he sat down in a chair, that had been pulled up to her bedside.

"Damn it," he whispered. "I'm not okay right now. If I were in Voight's shoes..." he laughed under his breath, but there was no humour behind it. "He's going to rain hell down on this earth for what they've done to you two."

* * *

><p>"You lied," Voight whispered to a terrified Michelle Donovan.<p>

She pushed her back up against the wall harder. Voight was standing only a few feet away from her. His gun was placed up against her temple.

Olinsky was standing on the opposite side of the otherwise empty bar, holding her cousin, Mitch, at gunpoint. The two detective's had returned to the bar shortly after the two of them had returned from the hospital (to get Michelle's concussion checked out). She had been sporting a bandage on her head, but Voight had ripped it off to show that he meant business.

"I didn't lie," Michelle whimpered, her _tough-girl_ attitude from earlier had been completely destroyed, now replaced with the attitude not unlike that of a scared second-grader. "I gave it to Ripper. Didn't you find him?"

"You're right," Voight growled. "You didn't lie, but you left something very important out. Why did you pick Ripper? It wasn't random."

"W-W-Wh-What?" She stammered. "I-I just p-picked him 'c-cause-"

Voight pressed his gun harder into her forehead.

"I-I have a list. I-It's a book. I keep the order of who's next- Who's the next employee to get a job- It has all their specialities and about how much money th-they expect from a job. There's also who hasn't gotten a job in a long- a long time. Ripper was- he was at the front- the book- it said he hadn't gotten a job in a while."

"We need to see this book."

Michelle nodded. "I-It's in the back. I-I'll show you."

Voight removed his gun from her forehead. "Screw with me and my friend's going to put two in your cousin's head."

She nodded again, shaking as she did. She lead Voight to the back, explaining more about her book. "I keep it locked up in a safe. After all, my employee's- they can get really competitive." She paused, crouching in front of a safe that she had lead Voight to. "It wouldn't take much to mess up the order- erase a few things here, write a few things there-, but I can promise you that none of my employee's have had access to the book."

She punched in the code and handed the small, red notebook to Voight. He flipped through the pages. "Has anyone else had access to this book? It was clearly tampered with."

"Huh? No it wasn't-"

Voight showed her a page in the book where a couple eraser shavings still on it. "Someone clearly erased a name here. You'd have to be blind to miss it. I'd guess it was Ripper's name. Now, I'll ask again; has anyone had access to this book?"

"A-A client," she stammered. "He- He wanted to see who I had working under me. I- Normally I wouldn't pull that stunt- It's horribly unprofessional of me- but he's a regular...and he offered a lot of cash."

"Name," Voight demanded.

"H-He's dangerous. H-He'll kill me."

"And I won't?!" Voight snapped.

Michelle Donovan gulped, "I- I can't."

"Fine. Come with me," Voight demanded as he headed back to where Olinsky was with Michelle's cousin. She followed obediently. He put the notebook down on the counter and aimed his gun at Mitch. He fired off a round into his leg.

Both Mitch and Michelle cried out. The latter attempted to run to her cousin, but Voight stopped her as Mitch collapsed to the ground.

"Move and he gets one in the other leg," the sergeant of Intelligence warned.

She froze. "Fine," she whimpered. "God damn it, fine! His name is Liam, Liam Vega."

Voight picked up the book and looked straight at the woman. "Now wasn't that easy?" he chirped. "I'll be taking the book by the way."

"Wha- You- You can't-"

"Watch me. I'm going to end your little business."

Without another word, the two detective's left the bar. Neither of them felt even a little bit of regret for what they'd done. They were closer to finding Halstead and that was all the mattered.

* * *

><p>"Elizabeth, the bartender, she says she doesn't know anything about the hit on Greg Hendricks. Said she'd never even heard the name before, or seen his face and I believe her," Roman explained into his phone. "We also ran the half-face sketch of the man who did the drop past her. She said it looked familiar, but she couldn't put a name to the face. Probably just a customer who came to her bar a couple times. Nadia and I let her go."<p>

Voight nodded as he drove through Chicago. "What'd you Liam Vega?"

"Damn near nothing."

"What's that mean?" Olinsky wondered out loud. "He stays off the grid?"

"He was never on the grid. There's not even a birth certificate for the guy."

"So what'd you find? You said damn _near _nothing."

Roman sighed, "It could be nothing, and it's kind of a stretch, but Ranger- Platt's tech guy- he ran the name 'Liam Vega' through an anagram program. Have you ever heard of Avail Gem?"

Voight looked at Olinsky, who shrugged. "What is it?"

"It's a company, sells items used in construction. Pallets, wood, paint- you get the gist. Anyways, they recently had one of there warehouses shut down. Get this, because you shut it down."

"Me?"

"The warehouse was apart of a larger drug smuggling operation, headed by Lee Tanner. Ring any bells?"

"I think I remember."

"I do," Olinsky added. "That was the bastard who sold drugs to those high school boys. Remember, all five of them OD'ed."

Voight nodded. "Oh yeah, but I don't recall this 'Avail Gem' you're talking about."

"Of course not," Roman continued. "They were small fry in comparison to the whole operation. I can't imagine you would've bothered to remember them, but they sure remembered you. The CEO of the company has been vocal about his opinions of Intelligence. He claimed your investigation was illegal and without good reason. He seriously hates you guys."

"That definitely sounds like a motive to me."

"I agree, and the photos of Halstead and the Blanc girl, Shelby, they show boxes in the background. A warehouse maybe? One that's been shut down?"

Voight smiled. "Send us the details and get Atwater and Dawson to join us. You meet us there to, and get Nadia and that Ranger guy to see if they can get us blueprints of the warehouse."

"I thought Dawson and Atwater were working a lead with the CSI's," Roman mentioned.

"Their lead will wait, this one may not. We need as many men as we can get."

* * *

><p>Lindsay slowly let her eyes slip open. She looked around her hospital room. Voight and Olinsky had left. Ruzek was standing in the doorway on his phone.<p>

"You'll let me know what you find right?" he whispered. A pause followed. "Thank you...And Voight...Good luck."

"R-Ruzek?" Lindsay mumbled.

The detective turned to his injured friend, whispering goodbye to Voight and hanging up. He sat down beside her bed once again.

"What's goin' on?" she asked sleepily.

"They've got a lead, a warehouse. It's a bit of a stretch, but they think that's were the photos of Halstead and the Blanc girl were taken. Halstead's probably not there anymore, but the girl might be." Ruzek looked closely at Lindsay and sighed, putting a hand on her wrist. "They will find him, maybe not at the warehouse, but they'll find him."

"I know," she whispered, sniffing back a tear. "It's just...after how much more damage is done? One more bruise or after he's...after he's..."

"Erin-"

"I saw the photo Adam," she cried softly. "It was sent to Hank right?"

He nodded, but said nothing.

"So this-" she pointed to her wound. "-and Jay...it's all because of what he's done?"

"Erin, he never meant for this to happen to you. Either of you."

"But it has...and I...I can't." She broke down in tears. "I can't lose him. He's my partner. We've lost too many people recently and I...If Jay doesn't make it- because of Voight..."

"You can't think like that."

"I trust Hank Voight with my life. He saved me when no one else even tried. He took me in and I am eternally in his debt. This bullet wound, it's nothing in comparison to that. Nothing. But Jay...he owes Voight what? His job? Not his life."

"I don't know about that," Ruzek said with a small smile. "Intelligence isn't just a job. We're a family Erin. For someone like Jay, who doesn't have any other family, it's an even stronger family. Jay owes Voight for giving him a family." He stared right at Erin, putting his second hand on her arm. "For giving him you."

There was a pause from speaking while Erin broke out in sobs and Ruzek held her tightly.

"I'm sorry," she choked out.

Ruzek pulled back from the hug. "For what?"

"I'm such an idiot. I can't seem to stop crying. I let my partner down, and now all I'm doing is crying."

Ruzek smiled lightly. "You're not an idiot, not for crying and not for letting Jay down, because you didn't let him down and you've earned the right to cry. You got shot and your partner's missing. He'll tell you that himself, right as soon as we find him. Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay. Okay."

"Good, now get some rest."

"You'll wake me up as soon as you know how the raid went right?" She asked quietly.

"Oh of course. You may be bedridden right now, but if I don't, you'll kick my ass when you're better." He said with a laugh. "'Cause you're a badass, not an idiot."

She smiled. "Right back at you."

"Huh?"

"It's okay," she explained. "It's okay to cry, Adam. Jay'll tell you that when you get him back."

He just nodded. "Go to sleep."

The female detective closed her eyes and slowly drifted off as Ruzek sat and watched. After a couple minutes her walked over to the window and looked out the window at the beautiful sight of Chicago waking up. As he watched the lights of the city, he thought only of his family at intelligence, his wounded sister and his missing brother.

He'd deny it if anyone asked, but if the faint light of the hospital room, a single tear fell down the cheek of Detective Adam Ruzek.

* * *

><p><em>I hope you enjoyed it! I'm actually happy with this chapter, but I'll let you all be the judges. I really meant to have them find Shelby Blanc this chapter, but I guess they'll have to find her next chapter...or will they? Dun Dun Dun! (sorry it's midnight, I'm really tired). What'd you think of the scene with Ruzek and Lindsay? It was requested by Kelleigh. (Thanks for the idea btw). The talk about it all being because of Voight was requested by linsteadlove (thank you too). Keep the ideas and reviews coming. Next chapter will be up next Sunday.<em>

**Next Chapter: **

**Chapter Seven: Don't Want To Go Down Like The Setting Sun**


	7. To Go Down Like The Setting Sun

_So here it is, the 7th chapter (technically it's called "Don't Want To Go Down Like The Setting Sun," but I had to change it a little bit to make it fit into the chapter title spot). I did my best to get it out by today, so I hope you all enjoy it, because your reviews continue to make my days. _

_By the way, I know just about nothing about bombs, (expect from what I kind of remember from cop shows) so it may be way off. So I'm sorry if what I wrote was completely inaccurate._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Don't Want To Go Down Like The Setting Sun<strong>

**(Renegade – Daughtry)**

* * *

><p>"Why don't we just enter already?" Atwater groaned. The entire team had been ready to burst into the warehouse for a good 15 minutes and had grown increasingly uneasy with each second that Voight delayed their entrance.<p>

"The place could be wired," Voight said (for what was surely the one-hundredth time in the past 15 minutes).

"Why would it be wired?" Roman asked. "How do they plan on getting in and out if the place is wired?"

"I'm just taking precautions."

"By calling in someone from outside the unit? Weren't you the one who demanded we keep this all in house?" The cop mumbled.

Voight's glare intensified, but it was Olinsky who spoke up. "I met Jasmine Rines while serving in Italy. She was also serving our country, but as an explosives specialist. Since returning, she has been working Bomb Squad in New York. She's in Chicago on vacation, visiting friends. I trust her with my life and we're lucky to have her."

Roman sighed. "Still..." he whispered.

Dawson spoke up, preventing the cop from shoving his foot any further into his mouth. "Voight, you're not holding back some sort of information from us. Right?"

Voight looked straight at Dawson. "You questioning my ability to lead _this team_ Dawson?"

"No sir," he said sternly, with both obedience and defiance. "I'm questioning your ability to be a part of _this team_."

The two stared at each other so intensely that no one spoke. Roman, Atwater and even Olinsky were all dead silent.

The tense silence was interrupted by the sound of a large pick-up truck. It slid into the warehouse parking lot in one of the worst parking jobs that Voight had ever seen. A woman hopped out of the driver's seat. She had long black hair, done up in a high ponytail and tan skin. She wore camouflage khakis and an army green tank top. She was also sporting a set of dog tags.

"Alvin," She called out, sauntering towards her old friend with a big smile. "Long time no see."

He smiled in return. "Good to see you too Jasmine. You remember Voight right? From the last time you visited?"

She nodded, shaking the sergeant's hand. "Wouldn't forget him. You leave quite the impression. And let me guess..." she continued, turning to Roman. "You're the crazy partner?"

Olinsky chuckled. "No. The 'crazy partner' isn't here. That's Officer Roman and the two beside him are Detectives Atwater and Dawson."

The bomb tech shook the hands of all three of them before turning back to Olinsky and Voight.

"Remind me again why I'm here. I know your guy's missing, but why did you need me again?" She asked.

"We want to make sure the warehouse isn't going to blow us up when we enter."

"Makes sense. Just let me grab my supplies from my truck." She headed over to her truck and grabbed a large dark green bag from the trunk. With that she headed over to the door and crouched down, placing her bag on the ground.

For a minute or so, she just searched around the door, checking for any sign of wires or explosives. After she was satisfied that there were none on the outside she pulled out a small mirror on a stick, bent at a specific angle (the kind people use to see around corners and such).

"Okay, so I'm going to open this door a very small amount, just enough to get the mirror in. There is the risk that it'll set off the bomb, but it's an incredibly small risk. Usually, explosives wired to doors have a small bit of leeway in order to make sure the bomb triggers properly. Either way, you might all want to take a step back."

The men all stepped back and slowly, she opened the door a couple centimetres. When the door didn't explode, she looked up and down, examining the crack in the doorway. She stopped when she spotted a small wire. Then, she slipped the mirror through, a little lower than the wire. Then she titled it so that (without moving the door) she was able to see the bomb. After examining for a minute or so, she stepped back, removing the mirror and (very carefully) closing the door.

"The good news is; we're not dead. The bad news is; it is wired," she announced.

The entire team looked at Voight. They'd all figured that he'd just been overly cautious and there was nothing on the other side of the door. Now, they all had the same feeling Dawson had had earlier; Voight was hiding something from them.

"It's a very basic charge, using C4. I could diffuse it in my sleep...as long as I was sleeping inside the building. This bomb is the bare minimum necessary to rig up this door. Fortunately, the bomb didn't appear to spread out to anything beyond the door, but I'd bet they rigged up all the other entrances."

"Then maybe they missed the windows," Atwater suggested. "If it's the bare minimum, probably means they're either new to using explosives and didn't think the windows or they were in a rush and didn't have the time."

"I guess," Jasmine admitted. She threw her bag over her shoulder and headed over to the nearest window and looked it over. After a bit, she turned back to the team and smiled. "We're good to go."

"Good," Dawson said, picking up a fair sized rock from the ground. "Get back."

"Are you out of your mind?" Jamine cried out, as quietly as she could force herself to, while rushing over to the others. "What if there's a charge on the inside of the room? What if it's activated by a motion sensor? If it was rigged right, you could light this whole place up!"

Voight agreed. "We need to be cautious about this." He remembered what Lindsay had said: '_He loved to test different kinds of trigger mechanisms. Weight, light, touch, heat, you name it. He just loved all of it.__'_

"Damn it Voight," Dawson growled. "We need to find Halstead now. You either tell us what you're hiding or I'm throwing this rock."

Voight sighed, "I didn't want to tell you. I wanted to make sure you kept yourselves focussed."

"I think the guilt is getting to your head," Dawson snapped. "Since when does keeping information from your own team help them stay focussed?"

Olinsky stepped in between the two. "Let's calm down. We all want the same thing here. Voight, just tell them already."

Dawson relaxed a bit, crossing his arms and leaning back a small bit.

Voight let out an angry sigh, but then he went on to tell them. "Lindsay told me that Ripper has a thing for explosives. Especially different types of triggers. Weight, light, touch, heat...motion."

"But...that means he was probably in a rush. If he enjoys all that so much, he must've been in a rush to put such a basic bomb on the door right?" Roman asked.

Jamine shrugged. "That's an awfully big assumption isn't it?"

"Halstead doesn't have time for us to debate," Dawson decided and before anyone could stop him, he threw the rock straight through the window. The whole team ducked, but there was no explosion.

"Dawson!" Voight barked as he (and the rest of the group) rose to their feet.

Dawson didn't respond though. He just walked over to the building. He used his gun to scrape away the rest of the glass from the window's frame. Then he turned back to his team.

"You coming?"

They all jut stood there, paralyzed in shock from the reckless actions of Antonio Dawson. It was Jasmine who eventually spoke up.

"At the very least I should go in," she decided.

"We're all going in," Voight announced in a bitter tone.

* * *

><p>The warehouse looked like any other warehouse (aside from the doors being wire up with C4, of course). Jasmine checked here and there for more explosives, but found none. The team agreed that Ripper was surely in a rush when he left. That left them with the question of why.<p>

After wandering throughout the warehouse for about five minutes, they found a door labelled EXTRA SUPPLIES. Jasmine checked the door and found it good to go. They entered the room and saw a medium sized from, about the size of a large living room, filled with boxes.

In the middle of the room was a small platform (only a couple inches off the ground) coated with dried blood. On top of the platform was a chair. Tied to that chair was Shelby Blanc, looking exactly as she had in the photo. Duct tape still covered her mouth. She squirmed uneasily when she saw the group.

"Shelby Blanc?" Atwater asked as he walked up to the chair. "My name is Kevin and I'm with the police and we're here to help you. Now, I'm going to remove this from your mouth. It might hurt a bit okay?"

She nodded as tears fell from her eyes. She let out a small yelp as Atwater removed the duct tape from her mouth.

Meanwhile, Jasmine roamed throughout the room, checking out the boxes that surrounded the room.

"Are you okay?" He asked as he began untying her hands and feet.

"Y-Yeah," she whimpered.

"Alright. We're going to get you out of here okay? Then we'll need to ask you some questions okay?"

She nodded. "O-Okay." She sobbed and hugged Atwater as soon as she was free. He rose to his feet, picking her up and went to step off the small platform.

"Atwater wait for a second," Olinsky insisted calmly. The younger detective stopped moving. "Something seems off."

"Like it's too easy?" Roman asked.

"I think I know why," Jasmine announced. She was lying on her side, on the floor, looking underneath the platform. "Atwater don't move a muscle. If you step off this platform, you will blow us all to shreds."

Shelby whimpered. "It's okay," Atwater promised, holding her a little tighter.

"Can you diffuse it?" Voight asked.

"Well yes, but then...Atwater would get loaded full of bullets."

Everyone turned to her, confused.

She continued. "I didn't notice them at first, but there are wires running away from the bomb and over to the boxes."

The group looked around them. From the platform, six wires stretched out in six different directions, like they extended from the tips of a six-sided star.. They all headed into the boxes. Just above where each of the wires headed into the boxes, was a box with a small hole in it.

"I looked through those holes," she explained as she stood up. "There are AK-47's inside each of those boxes. If I had to guess, I'd say the holes were made so whoever made this set-up could use lasers to ensure accuracy. If I diffuse the bomb, those guns will unload on Atwater and that little girl, and they won't miss."

"Guys," Atwater hissed, "It's okay Shelby. It's okay."

"Sorry," whispered the bomb tech. Then she, Voight, Olinsky, Roman and Dawson clumped together by the door to the room.

"What happens if we cut the wire to one of the guns?" Voight asked quietly.

"The bomb will go off," Jasmine explained in a whisper.

"What if you diffuse the bomb and they jump off," Roman asked.

"They wouldn't have the time," Jasmine insisted. "However...Do any of you guys have a pocket knife. I need to cut open one of those boxes, see the wiring. I need to be sure."

Dawson grabbed one from it's holster on the front of his thigh. Jasmine took it with a "thank you" and headed over to one of the boxes with a hole in it. She cut into the side of the box, as gently as possible. She cut open a small open, 5cm by 5cm.

"Does anyone have a-"

She was cut off by Dawson handing her a flashlight.

She smirked. "Well aren't you handy," she said as she shone the light into the small hole. A minute later she pulled away.

"Well, guys, we're in luck," she announced.

Atwater looked at Shelby, who was still crying into his shoulder. "See? We're going to be okay."

"It's a pretty simple design- the way the guns are wired. If we were to cut the main wire running across the floor, it would neutralize the gun."

"I thought that would set of the bomb," Olinsky wondered.

"Well, it would, but not if I were to diffuse the bomb at the exact same time."

They all stared at her.

"I'll isolate the wire I need to cut to diffuse the bomb, and as soon I'm good to go, I'll count down from three. On one, I cut diffuse the bomb and you all cut the wires to the guns. Bam. No problem."

"Except one," Dawson pointed out. "There are six guns. Me, Voight, Dawson and Roman. That's four people."

"Atwater could cut one," Jasmine said. "As long as he stays on the platform- the sensor won't trigger the bomb. He just has to cut the wire closer to the platform."

Atwater gently placed Shelby down. "Don't move okay?" She nodded. He knelt down at the edge and touched the floor next to the wire. "Okay, I could do that," he confessed, "but what about the sixth wire?"

Jasmine looked uneasy.

"We could call for back-up," Roman suggested, pulling out his phone.

"To get here in five minutes?" Jasmine asked.

They all turned to her, wearing confused looks.

"There's a timer. Did I forget to mention that?"

"Just a little," Dawson groaned.

"What do you suggest then?" Olinsky asked.

Jasmine looked uneasily at one person. They all followed her gaze, straight to Shelby.

"Uh-uh," she whimpered. "I-I can't."

Atwater looked at Jasmine in horror. "You can't be serious."

"Dead," she stated.

Atwater took a deep breath before turning to Shelby, still on his knees. "It's okay," he whispered.

She shook her head. He smiled as big as he could manage and wrapped her up in a hug.

"I'm going to call Gabby," Dawson decided. "Get her to send Brett and Mills..." He turned to Shelby and Atwater. "...Just in case." Then he left the room.

Jasmine went through her bag. "One...Two..." she counted. "Three...Four...Five...Six...Seven. Aren't we lucky I over pack. I've got us seven wire cutters." She pulled all seven out of the wire cutter from her bag and laid them on the ground.

Then she pulled of a laser pointer. She walked over to one of the boxes with an AK-47 in it.

"What are you doing?" Olinsky asked.

"Just hang tight. I'll explain in a sec."

She placed the laser pointer against the hole so that it showed where the gun's bullets would go.

"Okay," she announced. Atwater released Shelby from his embrace and pointed at Jasmine, insisting the young girl look at the bomb tech and listen. "We'll have Shelby cut the wire to this gun. That way she should be out of the way, incase she does time it poorly and it goes off."

"Can you get in position for me Shelby?" Atwater asked. "So we can be sure.

Shelby moved over to the wire. "Don't get off the platform," Jasmine reminded her. She knelt over the edge and touched the floor next to the wire. The laser missed her.

"Good. You'll be fine."

"And Kevin?" Shelby asked quietly.

"Well..." she looked around at all the other wires. "Let's test them all out." They did (as fast as possible), eventually deciding on the wire to Shelby's left. "That spot should work," she said nervously. The laser wasn't near him, but it was a bit closer than she would've liked.

Dawson reentered the room. "Let's do this then."

The cops all picked up a wire cutter (Voight grabbed two extras and handed them to Atwater). Then they all set up on their wires, but Jasmine stayed holding the laser for Shelby's gun. When Dawson knelt down at his wire, the last lined up with his sternum.

"I'm assuming this isn't good," Dawson said. The detective had pulled the short straw and ended up with the wire straight across from Shelby's. Although the AK-47's trajectory went over her head it landed straight on Dawson's chest. "Let me see if..."

He moved over so he to the right of the wire. He was facing the wire, but as far away from it as he could be, while still in a good position to cut the wire. If he messed up, Shelby would get shot by an AK-47.

The laser now just missed his right shoulder, but landed on his left arm.

Everyone looked at him, as if asking if he was sure about this.

Dawson smiled and looked right at Shelby. "It's not even my good hand."

"Dawson..." Voight began.

"I'm good boss. Jasmine, let's do this."

The bomb tech walked over to him. "Dawson, it's an AK-47, not a sniper rifle. It might not hit your arm," she warned him in a whisper.

"And if I don't Atwater and that little girl get blown to shreds and we lose our best chance at finding Halstead. I'm doing this."

Jasmine swallowed hard, then took a heavy breath. "Okay."

She moved to a safe spot and laid down by the platform. "This might take a minute. Hang tight," she explained before reaching underneath the platform and beginning to inspect the bomb.

"Dawson right?" Shelby asked quietly.

The detective nodded. "You can call me Antonio."

She nodded. "This is about the other guy right?"

"Halstead?"

She shook her head. "No...uh...they called him Jay."

"Yeah, that's our friend."

Shelby made a whimpering noise. "I-I'm so sorry Antonio."

"Why? Why are you sorry?"

"You're not going to find him," she sobbed softly.

"What?..." Dawson trailed off, sorrow filling his voice.

Atwater turned to the young girl. "Shelby, what do you mean?"

"They- They wanted you to find me. They gave me a message." She rolled up the bottom of the left leg of her jeans. Taped to her ankle was a small memory stick. "They told me..." she sobbed. "They told me to tell you that it was his goodbye."

Silence filled the room. They all looked horrified. Voight was the most scared though. How was he to tell Lindsay that her partner was dead because of him?

"You should take it and leave me...you should-"

Surprising all the other cops in the room, Roman spoke up.

"Like hell," he snapped as loud as he dared. "We're not about to leave you or Atwater to die. We're all going to be fine and so is Halstead. They're trying to mess with your head."

Before anyone could reply, Jasmine pulled her hands out from under the platform and sat up. "I've got it. You all ready?"

There was a moment where no one spoke. Then Roman spoke up. "Yes ma'am."

She laughed. "How formal. Let's do this. Now, to clarify...We cut on one. I'll count three...two...and as I say one, we all cut. Okay?"

Everyone nodded.

"Shelby?" Atwater asked, handing her a pair of wire cutters.

"I-I..." she took a heavy breath. "I can do this."

"Then let's go."

She reached under the platform and placed her wire cutters on one of the wires. Everyone else got in position, their wires also in between their wire cutters.

"Good to go!" Voight announced. Everyone else called out after.

"Alright," Came Jasmine's voice. "Three...Two...One..."

* * *

><p>Peter Mills and Sylvie Brett rolled up in their ambulance to the closed down Avail Gem Warehouse. They both hopped out of the vehicle and walked around to the back.<p>

"What are we here for again?" Brett asked.

"Not sure," Mills admitted. "Gabby said Antonio needed our help with something."

"Didn't say what?"

"Maybe GSW's and maybe injuries from an explosion," Mills admitted. "He said to enter through the window they broke and we're looking for a room labelled EXTRA SUPPLIES."

The two crawled through the window with their supplies and began to search the warehouse.

"Sounds suspicious. Is this related to the shooting of Detective Lindsay?"

"I don't-" Mills began.

He was cut off by the sounds of gun shots and a cry.

* * *

><p><em>I'm sorry! I couldn't help the cliffhanger. I hope you like this chapter. It took me forever to write. I was in a crunch for time though, so I may have missed a couple grammatical or spelling errors, sorry about that. Be sure to let me know what you thought and what you'd like to see next.<em>

_So I did add an OC, Jasmine Rines, which I usually try to avoid (unless their a part of the investigation like Shelby or a criminal like Ripper), but I felt it was necessary to have a bomb tech. She will probably reappear in the story, but if OC's bother you, let me know and I'll try to keep her role to a minimum. Don't worry, she won't be a huge focal point of this story either way. Funny story actually, I was going to call he Jaz, but then I realized how close that would be to Jay and had to go back and change it. Lol. Anyways...I'll have the next chapter up for Sunday. _

_Keep the ideas and reviews coming. I hope you enjoyed._

**Next Chapter: **

**Chapter Eight: To Dust Or To Gold**


	8. To Dust Or To Gold

_Did you guys see that winter finale?! I really want to hate the writers, but they are such geniuses that I just can't. I'm so sad that I have to wait so long for the next episode...Soooooo, I wrote this chapter to make myself feel better. I made the first part relatively happy to balance out the sadness. :) Please enjoy._

**Chapter Eight: To Dust Or To Gold**

**(Centuries – Fall Out Boy)**

"Why don't we go back now?" Ruzek suggested.

Lindsay shook her head. "Ju-Just to the front doors."

Ruzek sighed. "Lindsay, you don't have to push yourself. You've been walking for longer than recommended. I know you're tough-"

"I've got to get better," she snapped. "I want to help."

"Okay." Ruzek surrendered. "But only to the nearest entrance alright? The ambulance entrance should be just around the corner."

Lindsay smiled. "Honestly Ruzek, I'm fine. The hardest part about walking is having to carry around this damn pole."

"That damn pole is keeping you alive."

"I don't need the damn pole."

Ruzek shook his head, laughing. "Yes you do detective badass," he teased as they turned the corner. "See there are the doors I was talking about. Can we go back to your room now?" He turned to face the hallway they came from.

Lindsay opened her mouth to reply, but she stopped herself. She paused for a moment before finally speaking.

"Is that...Peter Mills?"

Ruzek turned to face where she was looking. Sure enough, Peter Mills was at the receptionist's desk, filling out paperwork. "Yeah. Why?"

"He's the one who brought me here right?"

"Again; Yeah. Why?"

"Can I go talk to him?"

Ruzek opened his mouth, but stopped when he saw Lindsay's death glare. Instead, he just shrugged. "Go ahead," he groaned.

At a steady pace, the two detectives made their way across the room to Peter Mills. When they reached him Lindsay tapped him on the shoulder and gave him the biggest smile she could manage.

"Detective Lindsay. Detective Ruzek," the paramedic greeted.

"Hey Mills," Lindsay said. "I was just walking around and," she paused, "I saw you here. I wanted to say thank you. For saving my life."

He shook it off. "I'm sure you would've crawled to the hospital on your own if we hadn't shown up."

"If the way she's dragging me around this hospital is any indication," Ruzek added, "She definitely would have."

"Sorry about Halstead," Mills added. "I may not be Voight's biggest fan, but he gets the job done. If anyone can find your partner, it's Voight."

Lindsay's smile died a bit, but she managed to keep it on her face. "Yeah," she mumbled. "What're you doing here anyways?"

"You didn't know?"

The two detective's exchanged confused looks.

"Voight and the rest of your team raided a warehouse-"

"We know that much," Ruzek interrupted.

Mills didn't seem offended by the interruption. "They found the girl," he continued, "Shelby Blanc, but there was this elaborate rig set up around her. It was a bomb hooked up to a bunch of AK-47's...or something like that. Anyways, they were able to diffuse it, but they had to get the girl to cut a wire and her timing was off. Antonio got shot."

"Dawson got what?" The two detectives spat at the same time.

"Oh no!" Mills blurted. "He's fine. I'll take you to him. I think he's getting stitched now. Brett's with him."

He handed his clipboard to the lady sitting across the desk from him. He them lead Lindsay and Ruzek down a short hallway to a room. He pointed inside.

Brett was leaning up against a wall, while Dawson sat in the bed. He was wearing his street clothes, but his shirt had been removed. A nurse was stitching up his arm.

"Antonio," Lindsay said softly.

"What're you doing up and about? Shouldn't you be resting? You're injured remember?" Dawson asked.

Lindsay smiled and shook her head. "Yeah, and what? Did you get jealous and decide to join me?"

Ruzek smirked. "That's what it looks like to me." He patted his fellow male detective on his non-injured shoulder. "Classy, really."

"Oh shut up," Dawson groaned. "Both of you."

"Well," Mills said. "Brett and I should get back to the station. Severide will be glad to hear you're doing so well Lindsay."

"Don't tell Gabby I got shot," Dawson pleaded. "It's the third time in the past three years and I'd rather not worry her again if I don't have to."

Lindsay smirked. "Yeah, you bullet magnet."

"That's real rich coming from you," Dawson remarked. "You got a concussion how many weeks ago?"

Lindsay just rolled her eyes. Brett laughed, "I make no promises detective, but will you do me a favour though?"

"What's the favour?" Ruzek asked.

"When you find out what's on the flash drive, could you give us a call? Gabby- She's worried. We all are."

"We don't need details," Mills clarified. "Just- In general. If you get the chance."

"Of course," Dawson promised.

The paramedics said their goodbyes and left. The nurse finished up, wrapping his arm up in a sling and excused herself. The now very exhausted Lindsay went to sit down in the chair beside Dawson's bed, but the male detective shook his head.

"You take the bed," he insisted. "I'll take the chair."

Lindsay was too tired to argue, so she slid into the bed as soon as Dawson slid out of it. She looked at him intensely and spoke up, "You've got to tell me what they meant about a flash drive. I want to know everything." Ruzek nodded in agreement.

Dawson sighed. "Well..."

* * *

><p>"We found your daughter," Voight announced, entering the interrogation room where Dr. Richard Blanc still sat.<p>

The surgeon perked up. "Shelby? She's okay?"

The detective nodded emotionlessly. "She's fine."

"Thank you so much detective. I really can't-"

"Don't," Voight snapped. "You don't get to act like you're the victim here. You don't get to thank me and cry like none of this is your fault. You nearly killed one of my detectives. You're the bad guy here. So, I suggest you shut up before you say something that upsets me further."

"They had my daughter," the surgeon whispered. "My little girl. Don't you have children?"

Voight was silent.

"Is there anything you wouldn't do to keep your children safe?"

Slowly, Voight turned to the door and opened it. Before leaving though, he paused. He did not speak though. The surgeon already knew the answer, and therefore, no words were needed.

* * *

><p>Atwater leaned back in his chair, twirling the small memory stick around in his fingers. The room was filled with silence. Ranger (Platt's tech guy) stood quietly in the corner of the room. He had been told very clearly that he was not to speak or even move unless he noticed something significant with the computer or memory stick.<p>

Roman was upstairs with Nadia and the Blanc girl. Voight hadn't wanted him to see whatever was on the file. He had even seemed apprehensive about Atwater being in the room, but had said nothing of the thought.

It was the room that Jin had always seemed to be in. Atwater had never been close to Jin. He'd talked to the guy only a couple times and the fact that Atwater was the deceased's replacement made him feel weird about anything involving Jin.

And now, he was to view whatever horrid files the memory stick held in the room of the late Sheldon Jin.

Without speaking, Olinsky and Voight entered the small area. Atwater looked at the older detectives. Olinsky nodded. Voight stared at the computer screen, as if afraid he might miss something if he looked away for even a moment.

Atwater slipped the memory stick into it's port. A pop up appeared on the screen. Atwater slowly moved the mouse so it hovered above the words: _open and view files. _After a brief pause, he pressed down on the mouse.

There were two items shown now. One was a video file labelled _View First. _The second was a document labelled _Second. _After looking at Ranger and getting a nod, Atwater clicked on the video file.

There was a room. It was clearly made of cement. The place looked run down and old, as though no one had used the building in years. The room was empty. There were no windows or doors in sight. The room was lit well enough so that the detectives could clearly see the whole space, but it was darker that most rooms. Whatever the light source, it came from behind the camera.

Unease ran through the detectives for the longest five seconds Voight ever experienced. The five seconds of nothing happening when Jay Halstead walked in front of the camera.

He was wearing a large, bulky jacket which confused the detectives. His left hand hung limp at his side while his right was clenched in a tight fist. He seemed beaten and was still bruised, but not much more than he was in the photo Platt got in her mailbox. His eyes were tired though, but defiant. Somehow he still managed to look strong. He stared straight into the camera.

"Hansen Kane," he said plainly.

A brief silence followed. Voight didn't take his eyes off the screen for even a moment, but he did raise his hands to his face. He cussed under his breath.

Halstead took a deep breath. "It's your fault Hank Voight and there's nothing you- or anyone else- can do to make it better."

Another pause.

Just before the video ended, Halstead spoke up again. "This is on you." There was a very specific tone in his voice though. It was similar to the tone one would use when consoling a friend.

The video slipped off the computer screen.

"Hansen Kane?" Olinsky asked.

The sergeant of Intelligence took a heavy breath, "The document," he instructed. His voice was quiet though, as if he had been winded and could barely gather the air he needed to speak.

Atwater clicked on the document. It read:

_You may wear a badge, but you are no enforcer of the law. You are a criminal, acting as an enforcer of justice. I'm the opposite of you Hank Voight. I am an enforcer of justice, acting as a criminal. There is no way for you to make right your mistakes, just as there is no way for you to save your detective. It's such a shame that he has to die for your sins. I hope he's said his goodbyes._

After all the detective's had read the file, Voight let out a breath and finally spoke up.

"Ruzek should be arriving here soon. I asked Dawson to watch Lindsay, since he has to be at the hospital anyways. We'll meet him upstairs and I'll explain everything I know about Hansen Kane." He turned to Ranger. "Take this file and find whatever you can from it."

Atwater left the room. Ranger soon followed with the memory stick. Olinsky turned to his friend.

"These guys aren't joking around," he said. "They knew Halstead would try to mix up the dialogue and drop hits if they gave him too much to say. But he still tried to communicate through the tone of his voice. Did you catch it? When he said it was on you?"

Voight nodded. "He sounded sympathetic."

"Seemed to me as though he was saying it wasn't your fault. Halstead's strong. He's hanging in there and he wants you to know that."

Voight just shook his head. "I know he's strong."

Olinsky smiled lightly. "It's not about him though. He's not the one who really needs to hang in there."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's means they're waging war on you. They're playing mind games and if you don't hang in there, they'll win. The photo, the video, the document. They're trying to beat you down mentally. Halstead, Lindsay, they're just pawns to these bastards. You're the target. You're the one who needs to be strong."

"Yeah," Voight agree under his breath.

"You could learn a thing or two from that kid."

* * *

><p>"Hansen Kane was the son of a criminal named Nolan Kane," Voight began. "His mother left them when they were young. Nolan was incredibly abusive towards his son. Whenever he wasn't out dealing drugs, he was beating Hansen senseless. Needless to say, Nolan Kane was a very bad man.<p>

"He wasn't high up on the food chain though. I dealt with this case ten years ago. I got Nolan's name from one of his buyers in exchange for a lesser sentence. I went to his house, but only Hansen was home.

"He was a damn nice kid, considering all he'd been through. He was sixteen at the time, covered from head to toe in bruises and cigarette burns, yet he wore a huge smile on his face. He let me in and assured me that his father surely had nothing to do with any sort of drug-dealing. I asked him about all the bruises and burns...he said it was his fault, but nothing else about it. He kept changing the subject."

"Bruises and burns..." Ruzek muttered. He pulled out his phone and opened the photo they'd received of Halstead on his phone. "It's just like they did to Halstead. You think they're recreating what happened to Hansen Kane?"

"I hope not," Voight answered.

"Why?" Roman asked. "What happened to him?"

"I left Hansen my card and told him to call me when his dad return home. He called me at midnight that very day. He sounded really tired and exhausted. Warned me that his father wasn't in a good mood. I asked if he could leave the house for a couple hours, so he snuck out his bed room window and stayed the night at his girlfriend's house."

"That doesn't make sense," Ruzek admitted. "I get him blaming himself for his father's abusiveness and trying to keep you from suspecting his father of being involved with drugs, but that type of behaviour completely contradicts the type of behaviour that he showed by calling you and sneaking out."

"I don't think he ever truly believed he was to blame or that his father was innocent," Voight explained. "He just didn't want to make anything worse by talking to me. I think when he knew I was for sure coming to arrest him, he saw a way out and he took it."

Ruzek nodded. "So, did you get Nolan that night?"

Voight shook his head. "He was at the house when we got to there, but we didn't have a lot of officers there that night and he was able to escape. He became a fugitive that night."

"And Hansen?"

"We let him keep the apartment. He continued to pay the rent, go to school. I stayed in touch with him, checked up on him. I took it upon myself to make sure he did was able to recover from all those years of abuse."

"So, you took care of him like you did with Lindsay?"

"No. I brought him food and sometimes I'd hang around his house and keep him company. I tried to be a good father figure for him. I even ended up meeting one his closest friends and his girlfriend a few times. I looked after him, made sure he stayed on the straight and narrow, but I never told anyone about him. Not even Alvin."

Voight smiled. "He was such a good kid. Sarcastic, sense of humour (almost to a fault), but a good kid. A lot like Halstead really..."

He trailed off and paused for a moment.

"What happened to him?" Roman asked again.

"A little over a year after Nolan had disappeared, I got a call from Hansen. He told me to hurry to his house right away. I did, but by the time I got there, Hansen was gone. The place was a complete mess. There'd clearly been a struggle. So, I called a friend and got him to give me a location on Hansen's phone. It was in a field, just outside of town.

"I got there as soon as I could, but it wasn't soon enough. Nolan had Hansen in a bomb vest, just sitting in the middle of the field. He'd forced the kid to hold his own dead man switch. If he let go, he'd die. Nolan ran away. He said I could either save Hansen or catch him."

"And you ran after Nolan..." Roman said quietly.

Voight stared at the floor. "Word on the street was Nolan Kane was back in town as a part of a huge terrorist plot. Somehow he'd managed to climb the ladder fast while he was on the run. I'd thought he'd leave Hansen alone, but he was more obsessed with his son than I'd anticipated. I did tell Hansen that his father was back in town and rumoured to be part of a terrorist plot. So when I went to defuse the vest- and I was going to- he told me not to worry about him and to stop his father. He said he could hold the switch until I got back."

Voight's voice got very quiet. "We was wrong."

"I remember the terrorist plot involving Nolan Kane," Olinsky added, in hopes of giving his old friend a moment. "Because you stopped him, he was unable to create and set off a bomb in central Chicago, saved hundreds of lives."

"Did he ever tell you why he blew up his own son?" Ruzek asked.

"He was obsessed with control. He once had it over Hansen and when he lost that control, he couldn't handle it. Killing his son, returned control to Nolan."

"You made the right call Hank," Olinsky added. "The plot was stopped and- if memory serves- they caught whoever was behind it all too, didn't they?"

Voight nodded. "It doesn't matter what I think of my decision. Someone clearly disagrees."

"Voight!" Ranger called out as he sprinted up to the group.

"What?"

"I was going through the video like you asked and I noticed something. At one point, your guy, Halstead, he turns his arm just a little bit. It's barely noticeable but look. I took a screen shot and printed it out for you."

The tech specialist handed Voight the photo.

"Look at his right arm."

"Is... Is that a wire?" Ruzek asked.

Voight nodded. "And look at his hand. It didn't register until now, but his right hand his clenched in a fist while his left is hanging loosely."

"Son of a..." Olinsky cursed.

"Halstead's got a bomb vest underneath that jacket."

* * *

><p><em>Sorry! I did another cliffhanger! I feel really bad about this, because I honestly don't mean to do this to you guys. I really hope you like this chapter because I really enjoyed writing it (but that doesn't mean you have to. Feel free to tell me if you don't). I now have so many new ideas for this story. I'm sorry that there was a lot of backstory, with the Kane family. It is very crucial to the story, I promise. Next chapter will be up next Sunday. I hope you enjoyed. As always, thanks so much for the support, keep the ideas coming.<em>

_SIDE NOTE: STORY IDEA_

_I have an idea for a one-shot, based on the song "On My Own," by Ashes Remain. The songs is essentially about how you don't have to do things on your own ("I was never meant to fight on my own") and I think it'd be cool to do a one (or maybe two)- shot about Lindsay trying to do things on her own and how she doesn't have to ('cause Halstead is there :D ). I'm thinking of using it as a trial run to see if I can write romantic-ish scenes. It wouldn't interfere at all with how fast I upload this story. Let me know if you'd be interested in reading that (in a review or PM)._

**Next Chapter:**

**Chapter Nine: I've Seen Their Eyes**


	9. I've Seen Their Eyes

_I am aware that this story has been going on for a while. I don't quite want to end it just yet. I feel like I still have a lot to tell, but on the other hand, I'm worried you guys might start to lose interest if I drag it out to long. Please let me know if you do start to lose interest so I can do my best to fix that. Moving on, I hope you enjoy the chapter._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine: I've Seen Their Eyes<strong>

**(This Close – Bradley Caleb)**

* * *

><p>"Shelby Blanc," Olinsky greeted the small girl. "Hi, my name is Alvin. Do you remember me? From the warehouse?" She nodded, earning a smile from the detective. "This is my partner. His name is Adam."<p>

The two detectives pulled up chairs on the other side of the table from Shelby. She was in the small room beside Voight's office. The sun was pouring into the room. Morning had broken and Halstead was still missing.

"Where's my dad?" She asked.

"He's talking to our boss right now. You can go see him in a moment, but first we'd like to ask you some questions. Is that alright with you?"

She looked around nervously. "Why isn't Antonio here? Or Kevin?"

Ruzek smiled warmly. "Antonio is fine. He just needed a couple stitches, so he's at the hospital, but he's just fine. And Kevin is just working on something else okay?"

It wasn't a lie. Voight had sent Atwater and Roman to go check out the field where Hansen Kane had died. It was a bit of a stretch, but they figured it was worth it to check it out.

Shelby nodded.

"Alright, can you run us through what happened to you? Before we showed up?" Olinsky asked.

After a moment, the young girl nodded. "I don't remember a lot."

"That's okay," Ruzek promised. "Just tell us what you do remember."

She nodded once more. "I don't remember how they found me, but...when I woke up, I had a bag over my head. I couldn't see anything. I think I was being carried, over someone's shoulder maybe. I heard them talking though."

"What did they say?"

"They said they'd come to early. They weren't supposed to have brought me yet. Someone else...they said it was fine. We were both dead anyways..." She paused for a moment.

"They took the bag off my head then and put me down on the ground. I was in the room where you'd found me. There were three men. One who had carried me in. I never got a good look at him, but I heard the other guy call him Ripper. Then there was a guy hanging from the ceiling. He looked really beaten up. The third one seemed to be in charge. He was really tall and muscular. He was really mean. He had an evil look in his eyes."

"Did he have any distinguishing features? Maybe a tattoo or a scar?" Olinsky asked.

Shelby bit her lip. "I- I don't know...wait- I think so. There was something on the right side of his face. I- I couldn't make it out. Everything was really blurry."

"That's okay. They probably had you drugged," Ruzek explained.

"Uh- huh," she whimpered.

"Ruzek," Olinsky ordered. "Go update Nadia and give Voight a call. Make sure they both know one of our perps has a marking on the right side of his face."

The younger detective nodded and headed off.

"You can continue," Olinsky added.

"Okay," she whispered. "The tattooed guy, he said he needed to speak to the other guy, asked him to step out with him. I was so tired, I just stood there. After they left though, the man hanging from the ceiling he woke up. Or- Or maybe he was already awake, I don't know."

"That's Jay right?"

"Yeah. He said that was his name. Asked me mine. I told him. He said- He said it was going to be okay. His team was looking for him. He said they'd find him, and me."

"Sounds like Jay," Olinsky said with a smile. "Did he he say anything else?"

"He made me promise that if I was found first and he wasn't, I had to tell something to Erin Lindsay and only Erin Lindsay. He said he wasn't sure if she was alive or not, but I could only tell her."

"Alright. Once we're done here I'll take you to the hospital and you can talk to her okay? For now, tell me what happened next."

"The two returned; Ripper and the tattooed guy. They lowered Jay down from the ceiling and brought in a chair. Jay tried to escape and he almost got out of the room, but they stopped him. He was really beaten up and weak. I didn't even think he'd be able to walk, but..." She started to cry.

"Shelby, it's okay."

She shook her head as sobs racked through her body. "No. No. It's not. They took him away, said they was going to kill him. Then they put me in that chair and...and they snapped a photo of me and left. Must've been hours later when the tattooed guy came with the memory stick and taped it to my leg, said it was Jay's goodbye."

Olinsky nodded sadly. "So it was just the two guys?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, let's get you to the hospital."

* * *

><p>"A bomb vest?"<p>

Dawson nodded, but said nothing.

"A bomb, attached to a vest, that's he's wearing."

Again, Dawson nodded without a sound.

Lindsay leaning back in the hospital bed, slamming her head against the portion that had been lifted up. Dawson didn't speak. He just let out a tense breath and swallowed.

They had moved back to Lindsay's room, where she had been reattached to all a couple machines. Voight had just called with the news a couple minutes ago.

"I don't...I don't even know how to feel at this point," Lindsay confessed. "I feel like I should be- I don't know- losing my mind and I am, but..."

"It's like it's not real," Dawson summarized. "Sounds pretty damn stupid considering how real it is, but...I know how you feel."

Lindsay ran her hands over her face. "I need to do something...maybe then I'll...I'll feel..." She trailed off. After a moment, she spoke up again. "I need to help find him. I need to get out of here." She sat upright and began pulling at cords and tubes.

Dawson shot to his feet and grabbed her hands. "Easy," he pleaded. "Easy. You can't take those out."

"The hell I can't!" she screamed, pushing Dawson back.

She froze and stared at her hands in horror. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just- I can't stay here. I'm so far away from the action that it feels like it's not happening. This hospital is like so stupid happy place and I can't handle that. I need to be a part of the case."

Dawson sat on the bed beside her. "First of all, this hospital is not a happy place. You nearly died here. We almost lost you, but, as I said before, I know how you feel. When I was shot, both times, I needed to be doing something, but I couldn't...and when I couldn't, slowly, it was almost like it wasn't real anymore because I wasn't a part of it."

Lindsay nodded. "I need...I need him."

Dawson smirked. "The truth is out," he whispered jokingly.

Lindsay laughed and pushed his shoulder playfully. "Not like that."

"You keep telling yourself that."

* * *

><p>Voight knocked at the door of a run-down apartment building. After a moment, it swung open. A girl with long black hair opened the door.<p>

Her hair was filled with different coloured neon streaks. She had a small hoop piercing on her bottom lip, on which she wore dark red lip stick. She had on way to much eye make-up. She wore a black leather jacket and dark red, short shorts.

"Vanessa Sykes?" He asked.

The girl shifted her weight onto her right foot. "It's Essa," she corrected.

Voight took a moment. "May I come in?"

"Like hell," she snapped. "Gonna tell me who you are?"

"I wasn't sure you'd recognize me. My name is Hank Voight. I knew you through Hansen Kane."

"Out!" She shouted immediately. "Get out of my bloody sight!"

"Essa?" Came another voice from inside the apartment. "You okay babe?"

Essa tensed up. "Yup," she exclaimed uncomfortably. "All good."

Voight tried to look past the girl to get a good look at the owner of the male voice, but the woman in front of him made it nearly impossible.

"You should go," she insisted, more quietly this time.

"I know you're mad-" Voight tried.

"Mad? Mad doesn't quite cover it." She stepped a bit closer to Voight. "I almost had my life back together," she whispered. "I was...I was _this _close...and you ruined everything. Now, get out of my sight."

Voight saw tears threatening to fall from her eyes, so he nodded and turned.

"Oh, and Essa," Voight warned, turning around just as she was closing the door. "If I find out you had anything to do with it, I will kill you myself."

Essa stood firm. "I," she stated. "Have no idea what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh," Voight muttered. "Have a nice day Essa."

* * *

><p>"So," Olinsky said. "Not the girlfriend."<p>

Voight shrugged, even though Olinsky couldn't tell if he was shrugging or not through the phone. "I'm not crossing her off the list just yet. She still seemed pretty mad. She's changed a lot. I'm going to go talk to another old friend of Hansen's."

Olinsky sighed. "Let me know how it goes. We're pulling up to the hospital now. I'll let you know what Shelby's got to say as soon as we know."

"Okay."

And with that the two hung up.

Olinsky and Ruzek lead Shelby into the hospital. They stopped at the front desk where they saw Dawson filling out paper work.

"What're you doing?" Olinsky asked.

"I'm signing Lindsay out."

"Voight's not going to like that one bit."

Dawson sighed. "What're you guys doing here?"

Shelby smiled brightly. "I have a message that I can only tell Erin Lindsay."

Dawson raised an eyebrow. "It's from Halstead," Ruzek explained.

Olinsky looked at his partner. "You want to take her to see Lindsay now? We'll catch up."

Ruzek nodded and lead Shelby off.

"You're signing her out?" Olinsky repeated.

Dawson sighed. "She going crazy in here Al. If it was Ruzek or Voight out there and you were the one sitting in that hospital bed-"

"I never said I didn't understand your reasoning. I get that she feels useless, but she got shot not even a day ago."

"She's recovering remarkably fast. The doctors are willing to let her go as long as she is left on desk duty."

"And how long until that isn't enough either?"

"Alvin," Dawson pleaded.

The older detective sighed. "Desk duty."

Dawson nodded. "That's all I ask."

* * *

><p>"Hank Voight?" was the greeting Voight received when he knocked on the door of an average duplex. The man who answered had well trimmed dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing nice jeans and a plain grey t-shirt.<p>

"Leland Marshall," Voight replied. "It's been a while."

"You can say that. What brings you here?"

"It''s kind of a long story."

"Of course, of course. Come on in."

Voight followed Leland into the middle class house. He took a seat at the dining room table.

"Can I get you anything?"

Voight shook his head. "No thank you Leland."

"Just Lee now," he said with a smile as he sat down across the table from Voight. "I can honestly say I did not expect a visit from you today. What's it been? Nine years? Ten?"

"Nine," Voight confirmed. "Clearly, a lot's changed since then. I just came from Vanessa's place."

"Yeah," the man said quietly. "She- She took it...bad. Blames you...a lot."

"I noticed."

Lee sighed. "I tried to help her out, but she wasn't having any of it. She just...lost her mind. All she could think about was revenge on you. I accepted it for what it was: a tragedy, but she...Vanessa couldn't move past it."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

Lee shrugged. "Must've been a good year ago. She moved in with some new guy. I can't even remember his name, but he was trouble. I tried to help her- convince her to move out, but...he was just like her father, and Hansen's."

"Falling back into her old life," Voight summarized.

Lee nodded. "I know I shouldn't have given up on her, but I was finally getting my life together. I'd proposed to my girlfriend, I had a steady, well-paying job. I couldn't let her drag me down with her any more."

"I understand. Was she still mad at me specifically?"

"I'm not sure. Her hatred became so overwhelming. She could barely think straight. I don't even think she really remembered you or Hansen. All she knew was anger. Can I ask what this is all about? Is she in trouble?"

"I have reason to believe someone is mad at me about Hansen and they're getting their revenge."

"I don't understand. Someone is attacking you because of Hansen?"

Voight nodded. "Do you think it could be Vanessa?"

"I...I'd never have suspected she'd actually act on her ideas. Sure, she had plans. She used to go over them with me all the time, but I never thought she'd actually do anything. I thought it was just her way of grieving."

"Do you remember any of her plans?"

"It was all so long ago," he admitted. "I honestly don't remember most of them, and there were so many plans. I think one involved throwing you out of a plane into a sea of piranhas."

"Were they all so ridiculous?"

"Most of them- If memory serves. There was one thing though..." Lee trailed off.

"What?"

"When I first told her that the man she moved in with was bad news, she said it was part of the plan. She was dead serious. There was so much hatred in her eyes. I asked her what plan and she just smiled. She never mentioned it again."

"And you never caught the name of the man she moved in with."

"No sorry."

Then, the front door swung open.

"Lee, honey, could you give me a hand with these groceries?"

"Valerie!" Lee scolded, rushing off. "The doctor said no heavy lifting!"

Voight rose to his feet and made his way over to the front door where he saw Lee helping a very pregnant women with a bunch of bags of groceries.

"Yes, but we were all out of- Oh. I didn't know you were having friends over." She set the bags down lightly and went over to shake Voight's hand. "He never tells me anything anymore," she teased.

Lee laughed awkwardly. "It was a surprise visit."

Voight smiled politely. "And I was just leaving."

"Oh, and I was going to make such a tasty lunch. Couldn't you stay?"

Voight went to speak, but was cut off by Lee, saving him the trouble. "He's a very busy man. He's in the middle of something right now."

"Oh well," Valerie whistled as she gave Lee a kiss on the cheek and strolling off into the house.

Lee rolled his eyes. "She's such a ditz, but I love her to death."

Voight nodded. "I'm sure. Thank you for your time. Here's my card if anything else comes to mind."

"Of course. Oh! Wait a minute." Lee grabbed a noted pad and pen from a nearby counter and scribbled down a name. "Serena Courtney. She's a therapist. I suggested her to Vanessa. I don't know if she even listened and there may be restrictions or some patient-doctor-confidentiality-thing, but..."

"Thank you," Voight said politely, accepting the note.

* * *

><p>Olinsky and Dawson neared Lindsay's room. Ruzek was standing outside. "She doesn't want us in there," the newest detective explained. The other two nodded.<p>

"You two can go," Dawson offered. "I'll drive Lindsay and Shelby back to precinct after they're done talking."

Ruzek and Olinsky nodded. "Alright," Olinsky said. "Just- be smart. Don't let Lindsay push herself or Voight will have all our heads."

Dawson nodded and smiled as the two walked off. He looked into the small hospital room. Lindsay was wide awake and sitting on the edge of her bed. Shelby sat beside her.

"He seemed really nice," Shelby said after an awkward silence.

Lindsay nodded. "He was."

"He-"

"Is," Lindsay blurted.

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry," Lindsay stammered. "I said 'he was' and I meant to say 'he is,' because he's not...he's not gone."

"How can you know that?" Shelby whispered.

"Jay said we'd find you right? How did you know we would?"

"I don't know," Shelby confessed.

"You had faith in him," Lindsay whispered. She dared not raise her voice any louder, in fear that she'd break out in tears. Shelby coming to her hospital room made it all too real, too fast and she was struggling to hold back her tears.

"Like you have faith in him?"

Lindsay nodded, forcing a smile. "Last year, everyone thought that Jay did a very bad thing. They thought he killed a man. It was a bad man and Jay didn't like him, but he didn't kill him. Everyone thought he did though."

"Did you?"

Lindsay's smile died. "Of course I didn't. I'm his partner." The words tasted strange coming out of her mouth though. She honestly wasn't sure if they were true or not. "But that's not the point. The point is that he came back to work with the guy who did it willing to confess. Even though no one else was really there for him, he got out that mess."

"But he's not alone this time. You've got his back this time. Right?" Shelby asked.

"Exactly," Lindsay said with a faked smile. "So have faith."

She could almost imagine Jay laughing at her. _"That's some good advice there Linds. Maybe you should take your own advice every once in a while."_

"Are you crying?" Shelby asked quietly.

Lindsay wiped away tears. "I'm just tired. What did you want to tell me?"

"Jay gave me a message, but he said I could only tell Erin Lindsay."

"And what was that message?"

"I know who Ripper is."

* * *

><p><em>Wow. That chapter actually took me all day to write. Not sure if that's a good thing or not, but I hope you enjoyed. It kind of jumped around a lot, so I hope it wasn't too much. It's not my best work, but it's not my worst. As always, keep your lovely comments and ideas (reviews) coming. Next chapter will be up next Sunday.<em>

**Next Chapter: **

**Chapter Ten: The Strongest Among You**


	10. The Strongest Among You

_So It's been brought to my attention that there are a lot of random characters. (Thank you ako94) I do realize that there are a lot. To help make it easier to follow, I've decided to summarize where we're at, because even I have to go back to earlier chapters to double check names. I'm sorry if it's tedious, but hopefully it helps. I promise these names are not just randomly thrown about. They are a part of the story (or at least my madman scheme that I call a story), but I'll try to make it so if you forget them, there'll be a small reminder whenever they're brought you._

_And did you guys find out the title for episode 2x11?! I'm kind of through the roof right now._

_Annnnnyyyyywwwwaaaaaayyyyyysssss...Please enjoy chapter ten._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten: The Strongest Among You<strong>

**(Citizen Soldier – Three Doors Down)**

* * *

><p>"This is where we're at," Voight announced, taking a step back from the white board.<p>

Ruzek, Olinsky, Atwater, Roman and Nadia stared intently. Dawson was to be on his way back from the hospital with Lindsay and Shelby. They were to fill them in on their new information as soon as they arrived.

"As of now, we know there are at least three main criminals involved. The leader is female, but other than that, we don't know anything about her. The one below her is male, but like the head, is also anonymous. Then, there is the hired hand; Ripper. Now, Ripper was supposed to have been anonymously hired through a middle man, but the system was rigged so Ripper would be picked. The man who did this is known only by an alias, which is an anagram for the corporation known as Avail Gem. We don't yet know how this company is connected or the man's real name. It is likely that this mystery man is the second in command," Voight explained.

"It is likely that the reason they chose Ripper specifically is connected to a case Halstead Lindsay worked earlier this year, when a man named Greg Henricks commissioned Ripper to take out a defence lawyer who let his brother get put away. Hendricks was killed by an unknown assailant on his way to prison," Olinsky added. "It is possible that the assailant was Ripper trying to stay anonymous, or for an entirely separate reason. Either way, the Hendrick's case is linked to Ripper's role in this crime."

Voight nodded before continuing. "This whole case is, in the criminal's eyes, centralized around a teenager I once knew; Hansen Kane. He died nine years ago when his father strapped him into a bomb vest. These criminals blame me for Hansen's death. Because of this, we have two possible suspects to be the head and her second."

Voight slapped a new photo of a woman onto the whiteboard. "Vanessa Sykes was Hansen's girlfriend before he died. Her life fell apart when he died and she completely blames me. I have reason to believe that her roommate is part of her plan. We don't know his name, but we have the name of a therapist she may or may not have gone to. Alvin and Ruzek will go talk to her."

"The second suspect," Voight added, slapping a male's photo on the board. "is Leland Marshall. He was Hansen's best friend. He seems to have moved past the death of his friend. He has a fiance with a baby on the way, but we should still keep an eye on him. He and Hansen were like brothers."

"Somehow the almost married man with a baby on the way doesn't quite strike me as our number one possibility," Ruzek grumbled.

Voight turned to the detective. "What part of _we should still keep an eye on him _did you miss Ruzek?" he snapped.

"Hey, hey," Ruzek blurted, putting his hands up defensively. "I caught all of it. I was just saying."

Voight groaned, but didn't say anything further.

"Alright Ruzek," Olinsky teased. "Let's go meet that therapist before you shove your foot so far down your throat that you choke on it." He nodded at Voight as he headed to the stairs. "Text me the address," he insisted.

Ruzek gave a sigh of defeat and followed.

After the two had left, Roman and Atwater approached Voight. "What would you have us doing sir?" Atwater asked.

"For now," Voight ordered, "hang around. I want you both ready to go at a moments notice as soon as Lindsay and Dawson get back here. In the mean time. I want you two to help Nadia make a new list. Go over the Kane case and find anyone else who might be a suspect, and try and find me the name of Syke's roommate."

"Right away."

The two walked over to their desks and sat down. Voight texted Olinsky the therapist's address, which he'd searched up a couple minutes ago.

Nadia turned to her boss. "What do we do with the old list?" she asked, holding up a large stack of files.

"You can cross reference it will any link to the Kane case, but I'm betting it will just need to be set aside. We know the connection for the leader, but it is still possible the second is working under her for another reason."

Nadia nodded. "Of course."

* * *

><p>Olinsky and Ruzek pulled over and got out of the car. "So Marshall suggested this...Serena Courtney to Sykes?" The younger asked.<p>

"Yeah."

"We don't even know if she took him up on his suggestion?"

"Nope. Is that a problem for you?"

Ruzek shook his head and sighed. "Just feels like we're grasping at straws. Like this whole case is grasping at straws."

"We've made progress," Olinsky pointed out. "A fair amount of it."

"Have we really though? We know why and we know a couple suspects and a couple alias's, but we don't know where Jay is, only that he's got a bomb strapped to him."

"We've made progress Ruzek. You keep that in mind. Nothing else."

"Sure!" he snapped. "We can write _they made progress _on his damn gravestone!"

Olinsky sighed, "What did I just say? _Nothing else._ Certainty not anything about a grave."

Ruzek took a heavy breath. "Nothing else," he muttered under his breath.

With that, Olinsky walked up to the door of the apartment building. Ruzek followed close behind his partner who pressed a button beside a label reading _Dr Serena Courtney._

"Chicago PD, here to see Serena Courtney."

A click was heard and the door unlocked. The two detectives made their way to the elevator and up to Courtney's floor. Upon arriving they abruptly located her room and knocked on the door.

"You must be the police," greeted the blonde haired woman that answered a moment after they knocked. "Detectives, I presume, by your attire."

Olinsky nodded. "Yes. I'm Detective Olinsky and this is my partner, Detective Ruzek. May we come in?"

"Oh, of course," she insisted. "I'm afraid my boss is in a session right now, but, by all means, feel free to wait here." She pointed at the chairs in the small waiting area. However, neither detective sat down, instead they stood opposite the desk that the secretary sat down at.

"Dr Courtney, would you say she serves the middle class, or more wealthy clients?" Olinsky wondered.

"Primarily the upper middle and the wealthy. Although she does get some poorer clients come in for only a few sessions. Sometimes they're financed by wealthier parties and stay for multiple sessions."

"What about a Vanessa Sykes? Was she financed by 'a wealthier party?'" Ruzek inquired.

"I'm afraid I can't disclose that information," she stammered. "It's against our confidentiality agreement."

"But she was a client," Olinsky assumed.

The secretary shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah."

"Probably financed by Marshall," Ruzek assumed.

"Yes?" Olinsky asked.

"Look- We have an agreement not to discuss matters of money or whatever they tell Dr. Courtney."

Ruzek showed the girl his badge. "We're the good guys. Please, we need your help. Our friend is in danger. We already know it was Marshall. Please, just clarify."

The secretary sighed. "Yes. Valerie Marshall finances all sorts of...misfits. She's very charitable."

"Wait Valerie?" Ruzek blurted.

"That's Leland Marshall's wife," Olinsky explained. "Could we have a list of all the other clients she's financed?"

The secretary shook her head. "It's really not my place. You'd have to bring it up with Dr. Courtney."

Olinsky smirked. "I think we will then."

He threw open the door to Dr. Courtney's room and entered. Ruzek and a terrified secretary followed.

"Dr. Courtney, I'm so sorry," she whined. "I tried to stop them!"

The therapist raised a hand, signalling to her secretary that is was fine. "Don't worry about it Daisy. You may go back to your desks." The blonde did as told and the brunette (Dr. Courtney) turned to the detectives. "Gentlemen. I'm in a session. Could you not wait?"

Olinsky shook his head and turned to the man sitting across the therapist with a gentle, but clearly threatening smile. "Could you give us a moment?" he asked as he and Ruzek showed their badges. The man nodded awkwardly after surveying the situation and stumbled out of the room. Olinsky sat down on the couch where the man had been and stared at Dr. Courtney as he threw his hands out across the top of the couch. Ruzek stood behind the couch to his partner's left.

Dr. Courtney let out a disappointed sigh. "For cops, you two are awfully rude. You scared away a man trying to get past his PTSD after being shot in a mugging."

"As tragic as that is Dr. Courtney," Olinsky said coldly, "we are not here without just cause. We are trying to prevent another injury, possibly a death. We need to talk to you about Vanessa Sykes."

"I'm not at privilege to discuss her files. If I even did see her."

"We know she was here," Olinsky stated. "She was financed by Valerie Marshall along with many other lower class citizens. Just tell us what you know and we'll be on our way."

"I'm not going to be intimidated by you. You're not the first cops who've come to me demanding to know more about the people Valerie Marshall has financed."

"Who?"

"What part of _not going to be intimidated_ did you not hear detective?"

Olinsky ignored her and turned to Ruzek. "Call Atwater. I want him to see if he can find any connection between Valerie Marshall and troubled, lower class people. Tell him to send me the list of people that she's associated with right away."

Ruzek nodded and stepped out of the room, pulling out his phone.

"Are you out of your minds?" Dr. Courtney snapped. "Valerie is doing the world a favour sending those troubled kids to me. Shouldn't you be applauding her not attempting to incarcerate her?"

Olinsky stared right at the doctor. "Not if she's trying to kill my friend."

* * *

><p>When Dawson, Lindsay and Shelby arrived at the precinct Voight had Nadia take the young girl upstairs to finally see her father. Lindsay and Dawson got a brief yelling in Voight's office about how she was clearly not better and if she left her desk for even a moment, Voight would haul her back to the hospital himself.<p>

"I understand," Lindsay said finally, "I'm not going to leave my desk, but first I want to see the video."

Voight raised an eyebrow. "Lindsay-" he tried.

"I'll tell you what Shelby told me. You can look into it while I watch the video."

Voight seemed uneasy, but Dawson spoke up. "I'll watch it with her- make sure she doesn't do anything afterwards. Besides, she's Halstead's partner. If he left any clues that we missed, she'll notice them."

Voight let out a sigh of defeat. "Alright. What did Shelby tell you?"

"She knows who Ripper is. Jay recognized him. His name is Elijah Vanto. I don't recognize the name though, so I don't know how Jay knows Ripper's identity, or why he didn't tell me his name when he met him on the Hendricks case."

Voight poked his head out of his office. "Roman!" he called. The cop's head peaked up. "Elijah Vanto is Ripper's name," Voight finished. Roman immediately began searching up Vanto.

"Elijah Vanto," Atwater mumbled. "Voight! I need a word with you!" he called.

"One moment," the sergeant promised, before returning to his office. He turned to Lindsay. "You're sure you want to watch the video?"

Lindsay nodded. "I need to see it."

"I wouldn't dream of stopping you," he confessed. "Go see Ranger in the tech room downstairs. He'll show you."

"Ranger?" Lindsay asked.

"A tech specialist. He's an acquaintance of Platt," Voight explained.

Lindsay nodded, before her and Dawson left the office. Voight soon followed them, stopping in front of Atwater's desk.

"You get Alvin and Ruzek that list?"

The younger detective nodded. "Yes sir, a while ago. I decided to look into Avail Gem a little more, find out how the criminals gained access to that warehouse. I figured it had to be significant if they used it's name as an anagram for an alias."

"What'd you find?"

"On first glance, their CEO is clean as a whistle. But when I looked deeper I found something. His brother's name is Elijah Vanto."

"Wait. Our hit-man is the brother of the CEO?"

Atwater nodded. "I know. It's strange, but I think I can explain how it's all tied together."

"Shoot."

"Okay, so until five years ago Elijah Vanto was in a great place financially. He had a ton of money, but he was registered only as having menial jobs. None of them lasted longer than any more than six months. His brother, our CEO, was clearly financing him."

"So, what happened five years ago?"

"Our CEO cut him off. Cold turkey boss. Vanto didn't even get a penny. He just lost his job, had no income and clearly no idea how to save his money. He racked up some pretty serious debt, even got himself tossed in jail because of a bar fight. After he was released a year later, on good behaviour (if you can believe it), he disappeared.

"Disappeared?"

"Yeah, just gone. There is nothing on Elijah Vanto after that point. So, I looked into his cell mate. The guy got let out a couple months after Vanto. I called up the warden of the prison. Apparently, this guy took Vanto under his wing. He helped him out. He taught him how to get through prison. He was his guide."

"You got me a name?" Voight barked.

"And an address." Atwater handed his boss a small notepad with a name and address written on it. "Recognize it?"

Voight cussed. "Grab your gear. We're going to go say hi."

* * *

><p>"You ready?" Ranger asked. Lindsay and Dawson both nodded and tech specialist pressed play.<p>

As the video played, both the detective's had their eyes glued to the screen. Lindsay held back a wave of emotion as she forced herself to stay emotionless. Dawson was also stone-faced as he watched, but on the inside, both the detective's were freaking out.

"This is on you."

Lindsay snapped to attention. "Play that back."

"This is on you."

As the video ended a second time, Dawson turned to Lindsay. "What?" he asked.

"The tone of his voice. It's sadder than the rest of it."

"It sounds like he's saying that it's not Voight's fault," Dawson suggested. "So he doesn't feel bad."

"But why?" Lindsay asked. "He doesn't have much time. He knows that. That's why he only got Shelby to give me one message. He didn't have time for a second message. So, he decided to use it on facts- on helping us find him, not sentimentality. Why is this different?"

"It's all he can say?" Dawson suggested.

Lindsay shook her head. "No. It's something than that. It's gotta be. Play the video again," she instructed. As Ranger dragged the time back to zero, Lindsay muttered under her breath. "Come on Halstead. What're you trying to tell me?"

As the video ran through again the two detectives paid attention to every word and body movement. The two had already had the bomb vest explained to them, but there was something more to the video. Lindsay could tell.

"This is on you."

"Damn it Halstead!" Lindsay snapped.

Dawson grabbed her shoulders. "Maybe there's nothing there Erin," he said softly. "Maybe you just want there to be something."

"Maybe you just don't," she spat. "Don't you feel it Antonio? There is something that Jay's trying to tell us."

Dawson sighed in defeat. "Alright. Let's take a step back. What do we know already?"

"He doesn't know if I'm dead or alive," Lindsay listed.

"Then why say the message was only for you. If you were dead, why would he want to risk us never finding out the identity of Ripper? It's like he doesn't want to be found if you're not alive."

"No," Lindsay insisted. "He wouldn't just give up."

"Or would he?"

"What the hell are you trying to say?"

"Maybe Voight's right. Maybe he is trying to tell us that it's not our fault, it's his. Remember when that bartender got shot? He takes things as his fault even if they're not."

"So he blames himself for my hypothetical death," Lindsay summarized. "That doesn't mean he's going to blow himself up. He's not suicidal!"

"I'm not saying he is," Dawson insisted. "But what if there is something we're missing? What if the head has bigger plans or is badly wanted? Would he blow himself up if it took them down with him?"

Lindsay stared at Dawson in horror. "It's just speculation Dawson, don't get carried away."

"I know it's not 100%, but look. When he says _this is on you_ he turns his arm to reveal the wire. You know Jay, Erin. You know him. What's he trying to say?"

Lindsay let out a jagged breath. "It's not our fault that there's a bomb attached to him," she whispered.

"And?" Dawson urged.

Lindsay shook her head. Not wanting to believe what she already knew.

"If Halstead gets the chance, he's taking them out himself Erin."

* * *

><p><em>I'm sorry. For the double cliff-hanger and the late update. This week has been chaotic for me, but I finished the chapter for you guys. I hope you enjoyed, because I'm actually content with this one. I know there are so things I've added that seem a bit strange and out of place, but you're going to have to hang tight for it all the come together (never-the-less, feel free to point them out to me). I hope you're starting to see the pieces falling into place. <em>

_As for the last scene, it is just speculation, but as we all know, Halstead and Lindsay know each other. She can read him. Hopefully she's wrong. You'll just have to wait and see. _

_I hope you enjoyed and are having a happy holidays. Next chapter will be on time on Sunday and will include some serious ass kicking (hence the title)._

**Next Chapter:**

**Chapter Eleven: I Am The Fear**


	11. I Am The Fear

_Once again, I was completely blown away by all the support from you all. Sometimes I literally just stare at you reviews and smile for over two minutes. You really do make my day, and I do take all of your reviews to heart and do my best to incorporate them into my story. Know that you're all appreciated. I've read all your reviews at least ten times each. So, I really hope you enjoy chapter eleven._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven: I Am The Fear<strong>

**(The Fear – Takida)**

* * *

><p>Olinsky and Ruzek sat in their car, outside of a homeless shelter. Ruzek was on his phone, looking at the information Atwater had sent them about the shelter. Olinsky was on the phone with an angry Voight.<p>

"We weren't getting anything from Dr. Courtney," Olinsky confessed. "She wouldn't give us a single name."

"Make her talk, Alvin," Voight snapped.

Olinsky sighed. "Look Hank, if it means getting Halstead back, I'm all in for banging a few heads around, besides, Ruzek and I have an easier way to go about this."

Voight silently waited for an answer.

"Atwater found a connection between Valerie Marshall and a local homeless shelter. We're going to go talk to the person who runs the place and find out what we can about Valerie's 'charity' operation. It's better to go to the source anyways."

Voight growled, "Fine, but if you sense anything's up-"

"We'll high-tail it back to the nice doctor's office and smash her head into her desk," Olinsky replied, only half kidding. Ruzek looked up from his phone at the comment.

"Good," Voight said. "Call me when you know something."

"Will do," Olinsky confirmed before hanging up.

"Sounds like a cheerful conversation," Ruzek muttered sarcastically. "Always love a good head-smashing."

Olinsky rolled his eyes at his energetic partner. "Let's just go talk to the person who runs this joint."

"Name's Mackenzie Stein," Ruzek explained as they made their way into the shelter. "The man's record is damn near spotless. I mean he's got a couple small things in his juvy record, but nothing since he turned eighteen. Seems like your regular good samaritan."

"Famous last words."

Ruzek was about to make a rebuttal, but he was cut off by Olinsky, who was introducing himself to a woman standing at a counter. He did so, by laying his badge out in front of her. Ruzek followed suit.

"Detective Olinsky," he greeted. "This is my partner, Detective Ruzek. We're here to see Mr. Mackenzie Stein. Is he around?"

"You came at a good time detectives," the woman confessed with a smile. "Mr. Stein is just over there. He wasn't supposed to be in today, but he can never seem to pull himself away." Her smile faded. "He's not in any trouble is he?"

"I hope not," Ruzek admitted. "He hasn't done anything wrong, has he?"

The woman shook her head frantically. "Mr. Stein spends all of his time here, helping out the homeless. He's a good man."

Ruzek smiled. "Then I'm sure he's nothing to worry about," He said before leading his partner over to Mackenzie Stein.

"Hello," the elder detective greeted. The two flashed their badges. "Olinsky," he said pointing to himself. "And Ruzek," he added, pointing to his partner.

"Why hello detectives," Stein said politely. "What can I do for you today? Is there someone I can help you find?"

"No, actually, we'd just like to talk to you," Olinsky told the man. "Is there somewhere we can do so in privacy?"

"Of- Of course," Stein stammered. "My office is just over here. Am I in trouble?"

"Should you be? You're not the first person to jump to that conclusion today," Ruzek explained.

As the three sat down in the office, Stein explained, "I'm sorry. We just get a fair amount of police presence around these parts. I'm not used to them looking for me though. They usually want to find one of the people we try to help."

The detectives nodded. "Well, we're not actually here about you," Olinsky clarified. "We wanted to talk to you about a sponsor."

"Good heavens," Stein exclaimed in shock. "Why? Who?"

"We have found a connection between Valerie Marshall and a suspect in a case. We have reason to believe her involvement in this shelter is connected."

"Valerie?" Stein shook his head. "She's always been so nice. Hasn't stopped by in a while. She's expecting a baby you know. I've met both her and her husband multiple times. They're such nice people. I can't imagine either of them being criminals."

"And it is entirely possible that they aren't. This suspect, she was sponsored by Valerie to go to a therapist. We know she sponsored many others...and since she also sponsors your shelter, we thought some of the others she sponsored she might've met here."

"I'm sorry," Stein apologized, "But how is that a crime?"

"It's not," Olinsky stated. "but it's information that we don't have. We need to have all our bases covered. I'm sure you understand."

"Yes, but-" Stein tried.

Olinsky let out a dangerously deep breath. Ruzek could tell his partner's patience was wearing thin and as much as Ruzek wanted to find Halstead, he didn't think beating up the nerdy-looking charity worker was necessary.

"They have our friend," the younger detective blurted. "Please."

"Oh- Of- Of course," Stein stammered. "I'd be glad to help. An- Anything you need to know."

"Great," Olinsky said with a nod. "You can start with everything."

* * *

><p>Atwater and Voight approached the apartment building that housed Vanessa Sykes.<p>

"You sure you're good with the plan?" Voight asked the newer detective, as they entered the building.

Atwater shrugged. "I just want to find Halstead. Don't care how. I'd feel differently if this was about revenge, but it's not. A life's on the line. Once we catch these guys and find Halstead, we can afford to have morals."

Voight gave Atwater a small pat on the shoulder. "Good," he said with a smile as they reached the apartment. "You should knock. I doubt she'll open the door for me."

Atwater nodded and banged his hand on the door. After a moment the door was opened by Vanessa Sykes. Before she could even speak, Voight emerged from behind Atwater and shoved her against the wall, clamping a hand firmly over her mouth. The younger detective entered the apartment and closed the door behind them. He then drew his firearm and began to search the apartment.

After a minute or so, he returned and holstered his gun. "He ain't here boss."

Voight tore his hand from Sykes's mouth and threw her to the ground. "Where is he?!" he shouted.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" She screeched back, stumbled to her feet.

Atwater slid out a chair from her dining room table and turned it towards the woman. "You might want to take a seat," he suggested politely.

She spat at the detective, but upon looking back at Voight's face she accepted the offer and sat. "Look. I ain't got a damn clue what you're so mad about."

"Really?" Voight growled. "'Cause I was here a couple hours ago and there was another person here. You didn't want him to know I was here. Was he your boyfriend? He did you call you 'babe.'"

"Haven't you ruined my life enough?" She spat.

"Listen. Essa." Voight snapped out, making her nickname sound like a threat. "I'm not screwing around this time. You're going to tell me where Dante is."

"I don't know what you're-"

She was cut off by a smack to the face. "Yes you do. His name is Patrick Quair, but he goes by Dante. This is his registered address. So don't tell me you don't know who is, because I know for a fact that you do."

"Fine," Essa snapped. "I know Dante, but I don't know nothing 'bout why you want him."

"Nothing?" Voight repeated, clearly not believing her.

"No-thing," she hissed.

"Alright," Voight said, turning towards the door. "Atwater, cuff her. Let's take her someplace remote. Someplace no one will find her body."

"I know a place just outside town boss."

"Good. I'll meet you in the car," Voight announced before leaving.

"You're kidding," Essa spat. "You're cops."

"Please sat up and put your hand behind your back," Atwater said emotionlessly.

Essa turned to the detective and she stood. "You're not going to kill me. Let me guess. You're the good cop. Voight's the bad cop? I wasn't born yesterday."

"I think you misheard me. I said hands behind your back. Unless you want me to kill you right here."

Essa complied with a sigh. "This is a stupid act. I ain't going to fall for it."

Atwater remained emotionless, as he began to lead her towards the exit of the apartment. Suddenly she kicked him in the shin, making him stumble. She used the opportunity to rush past him and make a run for the window. She barely made it three steps when Atwater tackled her to the ground. He rose off her, to his knees, allowing her to roll onto her back, but when she went to sit up, he pushed her back down harshly.

"It's not an act," the detective snapped. "If you can't help us. You are nothing to us."

"Did your boss even tell you what he did? What happened to Hansen Kane? He left him to die! I loved him! I loved him and Voight let him die!"

"That justifies nothing. You're hurting more people than just Voight. You're hurting people just like he hurt you. The only difference is Voight didn't mean to. You do."

"I ain't doing nothing," she protested.

"When's it end Essa?" Atwater asked calmly. "If not with you, then with who? You'll just make more people bitter and they'll make more people bitter. It'll never end, but you can stop this. You can put an end to this."

"I didn't do nothing damn it," she whined.

Atwater sighed, "I really don't want to kill you Essa. Please don't make me."

"You can stop this," the woman mocked.

Atwater shook his head sadly. "No. I can't. I can't let you kill my friend. It doesn't matter what I have to do. So, no, I can't stop this. Only you can."

"It appears we are of the same mindset. I can't stop either. I have to set things right."

"You're not setting things right," Atwater explained. "You're making it worse. You're not making it come full circle, you're making it spiral, and it will spiral out of control." The detective rose to his feet, helping the still handcuffed Essa up as well.

"It won't bring him back Essa," he whispered. "Deep down, you have to know that you're only doing this so you can cope with the reality that he's gone. It's been nine years. Don't you think it's time to let him go?"

She shook her head. "I..." she trailed off. "I can't help you."

"If that was the truth, I'd gladly help you, but you're not telling the truth. You're lying to me and right now, I need the truth. I don't have time for your lies. So, either tell me the truth or let me know what you want carved onto you're tombstone."

"I can't help you."

"I'll get the chisel," Atwater said solemnly before leading her to the car, where Voight awaited.

* * *

><p>Olinsky slammed a file onto Dr. Courtney's desk. She looked up from her computer. Ruzek stood at the door.<p>

"As I said before," she began, "I can't help-"

"Elizabeth Stanton," he interrupted.. "Valerie met her through The Stein Homeless Shelter. She was sent to you for therapy after she was a witness to an attempted murder. They caught the guy, but the PTSD never really went away. Valerie funded your sessions together."

"I'm sorry, I can't-" the therapist tried.

"Jason Rivers," he continued, ignoring her protests. "Valerie also met him at the Stein Homeless Shelter. He was also funded by Valerie. He was at a bar when a terrible fight broke out. If I recall correctly three people died."

"Four," The therapist corrected instinctively.

Olinsky smiled a bit. "Neil Larson," he continued. "Was a drug addict staying at the same shelter. However one day he and his friends got dealt some bad dope. He didn't take enough to kill him, it only left him paralyzed for a few minutes while he watched all his friends die around him. Valerie met him at the shelter and sent him to you."

"Yes, but-"

Olinsky's voice was getting louder and louder with each person he described. "Aidan Keith. Hostage in a bank robbery. Sandra Domino. Witnessed a man murder his wife. Lisa Kain. Saw a young girl pushed off a bridge by her psychotic mother. Should I go on?!"

"No!" Dr. Courtney cried out. "No," she panted.

Olinsky sat down. "Tell me about Vanessa Sykes. We know she stayed at the Stein Homeless Shelter. We know she too was financed by Valerie Marshall. Why?"

Dr. Courtney sighed, "Valerie was a witness to a crime a long time ago. She was at home with her brother when some robbers broke in. They killed him right in front of her. We were just starting high school at the time."

"_We_?" the detective repeated.

"Yes. We were friends in high school. It's what made me what to be a therapist. I watched how the event slowly drive Valerie crazy. So, I got some books, I learnt what I could. I even took her to multiple therapists. Slowly, she started to get better."

"And that's why you're a therapist," Olinsky assumed.

She nodded. "Valerie isn't a bad person. She just wants to help people. So, she sends them to me and pays their funds. I give her a discounted rate. She's helped tons of people detectives. You shouldn't be after her."

"Maybe not. Tell us about Sykes. Why was she here?"

"She met Valerie at the shelter a few years back. She was the first person that Valerie paid for. They met at the shelter, where Valerie helped out from time to time. I guess they bonded over shared experiences. Essa (that's Sykes' nickname) lost a loved one too, a boyfriend."

"Hansen Kane. We're familiar with the story," Olinsky explained. "I take it that's why she sent her to you."

Dr. Courtney shook her head. "No. Unfortunately, it got worse for poor Essa. There was one night a few years back, Essa was hanging out with an old friend- Valerie's fiance now actually. I believe they met through Essa. Anyways, Essa and Lee (the fiance) were walking through town when they got mugged. They complied to everything the man said, but the mugger was clearly nervous. He panicked and shot Lee in the stomach. After that night, Essa lost it. I suppose it reminded her too much of Hansen leaving her all those years ago. Lee recommended me after he started getting better, and Valerie offered to pay. So, she started seeing me."

"Did she ever talk about a Hank Voight?"

Dr. Courtney had a look of fear flash across her face. "Yes. She blamed him for Hansen's death. She said some pretty drastic things about how she planned on getting revenge."

"Do you think she'd ever carry any of those out? Any of her plans?"

"Oh, heavens no. She didn't have a good enough head space. She was far too out of it to pull off any of her plans."

"What if she had help? Did she ever mention a roommate? A man called Dante?"

"The name rings a bell. She did say she was living with someone once. I asked her if he was treating her well. I was concerned he might take advantage of her in her deteriorated mind set."

"What'd she say?"

"She said he wasn't the nicest man alive, but it was all part of the plan. I had Valerie check on her- on her living situation. She met the man, told me he was perfectly fine."

"Wait. Valerie met Dante?"

Dr. Courtney nodded.

Ruzek and Olinsky shared a knowing look. "How long ago was this?"

"A year or so. Give or take. Why?"

"Do you think it'd be possible for Essa to pull of any of her revenge plans now?"

Dr. Courtney shook her head again. "She stopped seeing me a few months back. She was getting better, slowly, but surely, but after she cancelled her sessions...I fear she's only going to get worse. It' possible she could've assisted in a plan, but she'd never be able to plan or carry it out."

"We have reason to believe she might be involved in the kidnapping of one of our fellow detectives as a means to get at our sergeant; Hank Voight."

"It's possible she helped out, but there's no way she was a major component. She'd also probably have to stay away from your detective. If she saw him, she'd probably lose it. I wouldn't be surprised if she just completely lost her mind and attacked him."

"So it's unlikely, she knows his location," Olinsky summarized.

Dr. Courtney shrugged. "I'd suppose it would depend on the goal of the party helped her. If it was methodical and well planned than she probably would be isolated, but it's possible she does know. If they wanted your detective to be a victim of her rage, they might have given her the location. I only had sessions with her, not the other captors- If Essa's even involved in any of this. It's entirely plausible she's not."

"Thank you doctor-" Olinsky began.

"Detectives. Keep one thing in mind. Essa came a long way. She's good at putting up a wall around herself. In other words, she can act calm and collected, but she's not. Her calmness hangs on very short string. Once she snaps, she snaps."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

Voight stopped the car and got out. Atwater removed Essa from the trunk and pushed her to her knees. Voight walked up behind her and placed her gun to the back of her head.

"Now Essa," he said calmly. "I'm going to ask you once. If you don't help me, I _will_ kill you."

The woman thought hard as Voight gave her a few seconds of silence. A smirk crept across her lips and he asked the question.

"Where is Jay Halstead?"

* * *

><p><em>Wow, that chapter was hard to write. I'm sorry if it sucked, I'm just really sick and unable to sleep, so I'm also quite tired, but I did it! I got the chapter done! On time! This chapter was a lot of information, but I had to have it to began the unravelling of the criminal group that has Jay. There wasn't as much badassery as I meant to have, but hopefully it's still good. I hope you enjoyed. Please, let me know what you think, good or bad. The mysteries are finally being revealed. Will Voight actually kill Vanessa Sykes? You'll find out next Sunday.<em>

_Small note: I know I threw a lot of names around this chapter. You don't need to know most of them. Just know, Dante, Sykes, Lee, and Valerie and it wouldn't hurt to keep in mind the therapist, but I don't know if she'll appear after this. You don't need to know any of the names Olinsky threw at the therapist._

_There was no Lindsay in this chapter, sorry, but she will be in the next chapter, along with the entire team's reaction to her and Dawson's idea that Halstead may blow himself up. There will be lots of Lindsay as I wrap it up._

* * *

><p><strong>Next Chapter:<strong>

**Chapter Twelve: A Dream That I Can't Hold**


	12. A Dream That I Can't Hold

**Chapter 12: A Dream That I Can't Hold**

**(Top Of The World – Greek Fire)**

* * *

><p>Laughter filled the space. Voight's expression didn't flinch. He kept his gun trained on the head on the woman laughing, but Atwater grew uneasy.<p>

"Jay Halstead," Essa cackled. "Tell me, did the bitch die? Are you fighting for her memory?"

"That's not an answer Essa," Voight snapped.

She laughed. "No. It's a question. You answer one for me. I answer one for you. That's how this is going to work." As she spoke, she rose to her feet and turned to face Voight.

The sergeant just shook his head. He fired a shot that just missed Essa, grazing her left temple. Blood ran down her face as she stumbled back.

"I'll tell you how this is going to work. You are going to tell me where my detective is, or I'm going to kill you."

"You think I'm afraid of dying, Hank Voight?" She whispered sinisterly, pressing her forehead against the pistol aimed at her. "I lost the man I loved. I nearly lost the only memory I had of him. I've seen so many people in pain and in agony as they struggle through life...I'm not afraid of it ending. I'm afraid of you getting what you want. I'm afraid of you being happy, not me not being happy."

"Then let me grant your wish-" Voight barked. He was about to pull the trigger, but stopped when his phone went off. "Watch her," he demanded to Atwater.

"Voight," he answered as he walked out of their earshot.

"Hey Hank," Olinsky greeted. "Ruzek and I are heading back to the station, we've got some new information from our doctor friend."

"Fire away."

"Valerie Marshall was a witness to the death of her brother when she was still in high school. Because of this, she started helping out at the Stein Homeless Shelter. That's where she met Essa. They sympathized with each other because they'd both lost people they loved. The two became friends. Valerie met Lee through Essa."

"When did she send her to _our doctor friend_?"

"Apparently, Essa was with Lee one night, when he got shot by a mugger. Essa snapped. So, Valerie sent Essa to an old friend."

"Dr. Courtney."

"Exactly," Olinsky said. "As for the connection to Dante, Essa found him all on her own. The therapist sent Valerie to check on Essa's living environment. I'm assuming that's Valerie jumped on board with Essa's crazy ideas of revenge."

"So, now they're working together."

"Perhaps, but it's unlikely Essa plays a big role. Valerie is good at hiding her plans. You told me that when you met her seemed polite and gentle, even invited you to stay."

"Yes," Voight confirmed. "But, I didn't really think twice on it."

"Because she's a master manipulator. Essa, on the other hand, is a woman with almost no control over her emotions. Valerie wouldn't let that kind of recklessness ruin her plan."

"But it's Essa's revenge."

"That's the thing. What if it was only made to look like Essa's revenge? I mean, sure, her husband was also a friend of Hansen, but he seems to have moved past it. I find it hard to believe Valerie would just jump into this kind of deal with someone as unstable as Essa. She's met plenty of other unstable people and sent them to Dr. Courtney. So why Essa's plan?"

"Al, you're throwing a serious curveball if you're right. We almost have this organization figured out."

"But what if we don't?"

Voight sighed. "Looks like we're going to need Essa to talk. I'm going to require your help."

"Just tell me what you need."

* * *

><p>Voight approached Essa and Atwater once again.<p>

"That was Olinsky," he explained, the tone of his voice giving away a feeling of disbelief. "Ripper and Dante- they turned on Valerie."

"What?" Atwater exclaimed.

"Valerie's the head. Ripper and Dante are the two who work under her," Voight explained.

Essa shook her head. "That's not true."

"They shot her, Vanessa."

She shook her head. "No," she mumbled. "You don't even know what you're talking about."

"She lost the baby Essa."

"Shut up!"she screeched.

"Lee, he's...they took him. They're going to hook him up to a bomb vest too."

"I said shut up!"

"You want him to end up like Hansen?!"

"Don't you dare!" She cried. "He was a person, a human being! I cared about him! You don't get to bring him up after what you did! Especially not while lying to me! He's not just some name you can throw around to make me talk! He was a person!"

"You're right. He was a person...and so is Lee. Are you going to let your friend become just name? Because that's all Hansen is now; a name. He's just a memory Essa, but Lee's not, not yet. You can help us save him."

"How..." she whispered. "How do I know you're not lying?"

"Come with us to the hospital. We'll show you Valerie."

Essa nodded. "But if I find out you're lying to me, you better just shoot me, because I won't tell you a damn thing if you are, in fact, lying to me."

* * *

><p>They arrived at the hospital just a little later. They approached a man sitting at the desk.<p>

"We're here to see a Valerie Marshall," Voight explained as politely as he could.

"I'm sorry," the man said. "You're here to see who?"

"Valerie Marshall," Voight repeated.

The man hit searched through his computer for a moment. "You must be at the wrong hospital," he confessed. Essa gave Voight a dangerous look. Atwater gave his boss an uneasy glance. "I don't see a Valerie Marshall..."

"Oh no," came a voice of another man. "I just operated on her."

The group turned to see Dr. Richard Blanc, the doctor who had tried to kill Lindsay, standing before them in full scrubs. Atwater stared at his boss in horror, but Voight gave him a look that clearly read _trust me_, which caused him to calm down before Essa noticed the exchange.

"Apparently, no one thought it was important to record the fact that Mrs. Marshall was brought in. I just found out, so I thought I'd come clear up any misunderstanding. Good thing I did," Dr. Blanc said with a smile. "How can I help you three?"

Essa spoke up right away. "Is she okay?"

"Hard to say. She's still in surgery, the second part anyways. I just finished, fixing up the main injuries, but the doctor working on her now still has a lot of work to do before she's anywhere near out of the woods...and...we lost the baby."

Essa made a small whimper.

"I'm so sorry. We did everything we could."

"When- When will she be out...of surgery?" Essa asked sadly. "When can we see her...if...if she..."

"I honestly can't say. Every case is different. There are so many things that could go wrong. But I'll tell you what. I can have someone call you as soon as we're done operating."

Essa forced a weak smile. "Thank you."

"No problem."

Voight turned to Atwater, "Could you take her to the car? I'll be out in a moment." The younger detective nodded and did as told.

Once they were out of earshot, Voight turned his attention to the doctor. "I appreciate what you've done here. You really helped us out."

"Whatever helps lower my prison sentence," the doctor replied, in what may or may not have been a poorly executed and timed joke.

Voight nodded. "I haven't forgiven you," he stated. "Let's make that clear. You tried to kill my detective and I'm not ever going to forgive you for that, but, that being said I know why you did what you did. There's nothing I wouldn't do to protect my family. Nothing."

"I'm sure."

"So, if you agree to keep helping us whenever we need your assistance, I think we'll be able to talk to the judge on your behalf. Maybe, make it so you don't have to go to prison."

"If it means getting to stay with my family," the doctor explained. "I'll do whatever you ask."

* * *

><p>Essa was sitting in the interrogation room, waiting for someone to go talk to her. The entire unit (expect Halstead and including Roman) was gathered in the main room of intelligence.<p>

"Well," Lindsay said. "I'm glad we're letting Blanc walk. I don't blame him for what he did."

Voight nodded. "I figured you wouldn't."

"Just to double check," Atwater said. "The Marshall family is fine?"

Ruzek laughed. "It was just to get Essa to agree to talk to us...and it worked so don't let her know that we were lying or she'll stop co-operating."

"She's messed up," Atwater admitted. "How do we know that any of what she says is true? Wouldn't it be better to go after Valerie?"

"With what evidence?" Lindsay pointed out.

"Like that's ever stopped us," Ruzek muttered under his breath, earning a glare from Voight.

"You want to go beat up a pregnant woman?" Lindsay snapped.

"If it gets us Halstead," Ruzek remarked defensively.

"She's the mastermind," Lindsay barked. "She won't talk anyways."

"Don't you want to find Jay?!"

Lindsay made a motion to get out her chair and punch Ruzek, but Dawson held her down, so she didn't tear any stitches.

"We all want to find him Ruzek," Dawson snapped. "I know emotions are running high, but let's not lose our heads. Keep in mind who the bad guys are. I'll give you a hint. They're not in this room."

Ruzek and Lindsay sighed. "I'm sorry," the male confessed. "I was out of line."

"You think?" she snapped back.

"Enough," Voight demanded. "I'm going to go interrogate Essa. I want Lindsay watching, but you are by no means, allowed to come into the room with her or talk to her. Is it that clear?"

"Crystal."

"All due respect boss," Atwater interjected. "She hates you. Maybe someone else should go in."

"Fine. You do it. Take Ruzek with you. Can you keep your head on?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Don't you dare blow this."

"I won't. Don't worry."

As Ruzek, Atwater and Lindsay made their way to the interrogation room. Ruzek grabbed Lindsay's arm.

"Are we good?"

Lindsay smile lightly and sighed. "Yeah. You were just worried. I get that."

Ruzek smiled. "Good thing there's a remedy for our worry."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Finding Halstead and burning anyone who gets in our way."

Lindsay's smile grew. "Just try to keep the heat down while talking to Essa. She's agreed to help. You don't have to 'burn' her."

Ruzek laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You two coming?" Atwater called. "Or are you going to stand there forever?"

They both nodded and entered the interrogation rooms, Atwater and Ruzek in the room with Essa and Lindsay on the other side of the glass.

* * *

><p>"Olinsky, you said something about a bigger plan earlier," Dawson mentioned, as he pulled the older detective aside.<p>

"I did," Olinsky agreed. "I thought that Valerie must have another motive than the death if Hansen Kane. Dante and Ripper, they're just hired muscle, but she's the ringleader. She's got to have a better reason than an old grudge of her mentally unstable friend."

"Lindsay and I, when we watched the video of Halstead we thought he might have a plan."

"I'm listening."

"We thought he might...let the bomb go off, if he thought it would take out his captors, especially if they had something bigger planned."

Olinsky froze.

"If we're both right, and Halstead find out..." Dawson trailed off for a moment. "We might have even less time than we thought."

"We need to talk to Voight. We have to find Valerie now. If she reveals her plan, (is she has one) to Halstead..." he trailed off.

The two detectives gave each other a knowing look then raced over to Voight's office.

* * *

><p>"How did you meet Dante?" Atwater asked.<p>

"I know I was seeing a therapist and somedays, it seemed like it was helping, but every time I closed my eyes I saw Lee getting shot or Hank Voight leaving Hansen to die and...and I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted revenge, but I didn't know how. I needed someone who could help me. I was afraid of asking around, of getting caught.

"But, one day, I was looking through this small neighbourhood newspaper and saw an ad for a room mate. I was with an acquaintance at the time and he told me to ignore the ad. He the guy who was looking for a room mate was a criminal known as Dante. This intrigued me, so I did some digging online at a library, about the guy. I found some news articles about his arrest. He was the real deal. I knew he could help me get revenge so I decided to throw on the feminine charm and go meet the guy.

"We met up at his apartment. He was going over how much rent I'd have to pay when I proposed another offer. I told him I'd pay the entire rent as long as he did me a favour. He agreed, so I had him look into your team. He introduced me to his friend, a guy called Ripper. He said Ripper was going to help us out.

"We weren't sure how to get to him, until Ripper got caught up in some affair involving to our your detectives, Jay Halstead and Erin Lindsay. When Ripper told Dante and I about the cops, Dante told him to end the investigation."

"So he killed the man who hired him in a hit and run," Ruzek remembered and pointed out.

Essa nodded. "After that incident, we knew what we were going to do. We were going to shoot the girl, just like Lee was shot. And we would strap a bomb vest to the guy and see is Voight could find him in time to save him, or if he'd leave him for dead like he did to Hansen. Ripper was good with bombs, so he'd be able to make the vest."

"Then Valerie showed up and met Dante."

"I panicked," Essa admitted. "I was certain she'd rat me out, but then Dante pulled her aside. I don't know what he said to her, but when they came back Valerie agreed to be our leader and organize the whole ordeal. She told I wouldn't have to worry about anything."

"So, you don't know where they took Halstead?" Atwater asked.

"Or Lee?" Ruzek added.

Essa sighed. "Lee was never supposed to be a part of any of this. That was the promise we all made. I can't believe Dante and Ripper would do this to us." She began to cry. "She was so happy about having a baby."

"Essa," Atwater asked. "Did they ever take you to see Detective Halstead? That might be where Lee is."

"No. They never told me anything about his location, but Valerie promised I'd be there for the big finale. The part where they'd make them all pay for what they'd done."

"Them all?"

"That's what she said. She said 'they'd all pay. Every last one.'"

Suddenly, The door flew open and Lindsay made her way into the room. Both detectives protested, but Lindsay shook them off, sitting down in the chair across from Essa.

"Hi Essa," She greeted coldly. "My name is Erin Lindsay. Your friend shot me, just like Lee. I bet you're really happy now, aren't you?''

Essa looked at the two male detectives, confused. "I don't understand...why are you-"

"You know what Essa. I don't think you want us to find Lee. I don't think you care about him. I don't think you ever really have, not since Hansen died. I think, deep down, you've always hated Lee because Hansen's death didn't destroy him. It should have, they were best friends, but it didn't, and you've always hated him for that."

"No. That's not-"

"But you don't even realize it because when you see Lee, you see Hansen and you feel all the love you felt back before he died. But you don't love Lee, not anymore. You hate him, so you won't tell us where he is, because, deep down, you want him to die. You want him to pay for not falling apart after Hansen's death."

"No. You're ly-"

Lindsay cut her off again. "But Valerie...Valerie gets you. She agreed to help you. She lost her brother and it destroyed her. You feel like she understands you better than Lee ever could. You were scared when you found out she was shot, but you were happy when Lee got taken because you knew Dante and Ripper, they'd make him pay."

Essa shook her head. "Lee is my friend..." she mumbled, trying to convince herself of it.

"You want to know the truth Essa? We lied to you."

"Erin!" Ruzek snapped.

She ignored him. "Lee, he's fine. Valerie's fine too. That doctor was just helping us to fool you. I bet she's with my partner right now, cutting him up, tightening his vest, preparing her big plan and not only will you be there to see it, but neither will she."

"What..." Essa gasped.

"Halstead, my partner, he's not going to let Valerie just walk away. She won't achieve her plan. He's going to let go of that button and he's going to blow them all up. Ripper. Dante. Valerie. The little baby in her stomach. Himself." Lindsay found herself holding back tears as she spoke. "They will all die before he lets them carry out their big plan."

Ruzek and Atwater stared at Lindsay in sheer horror.

"That's no lie," she promised. "They will all die. You'll lose another friend. You'll probably lose your mind and get locked up. Lee, he'll probably go nuts too, losing his fiance and his unborn child because of the naive vendetta of the girl he foolishly thought of as his friend!"

Tears were streaming Essa's face by the time Lindsay spoke up again.

"You'll have your revenge. Jay Halsted will be dead and this entire unit will be torn apart because of it. Atwater will probably be awkwardly silent, try to avoid the topic whenever it's brought up. Ruzek, he'll try to turn to his girlfriend, but in the end, he'll blame himself too much and their relationship will crumble. Dawson's grief will ruin any chance he had of getting his family life sorted out, probably ruin his great relationship with his sister. Olinsky will want revenge, and it'll tear him away the family he was trying so hard to heal. I'll probably tailspin out of control. Who knows, maybe I'll end up next to you and Lee in the loony bin. And Voight? He'll blame himself, you'll have won. He'll try to avenge Halstead, but he won't know how."

She looked straight at the sobbing Essa. "But you'll have won. Isn't that all that matters? Who cares about the collateral? Who cares about Lee and Valerie and their future? You'll have won. I'm sure Hansen's spirit will be proud of you."

Essa broke down in tears.

"She can't help us," Lindsay snapped. "Let's go."

Ruzek moved to his friends side to give her a hand making her way out of the room. "You really believe that's what'll happen?" he whispered as they moved to the observing room.

"I don't know, maybe. I was just trying to get her to talk," Lindsay admitted. "I'm sure she doesn't really want Lee dead, not entirely, but she's too unstable to know for sure how she feels."

Ruzek whistled. "As cruel as that was, Erin Lindsay, it was kind of badass. Let's not tell Voight."

Lindsay laughed, as they watched Atwater put a hand on Essa's shoulder.

"It's okay. You don't know where he is. There's nothing you can do."

"There is..." Essa whispered. "There is something I can do." She looked up at Atwater with teary eyes. "That detective was right. I haven't been entirely honest with you.

* * *

><p><em>I don't have a lot of time for an author's note today, but I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'm happy with it. Next chapter will be up next Sunday and the team is so close to finding Jay. They might even find him in the next chapter. Ooooh. Please let me know what you'd like to see and what you thought of this chapter so I can make the next ones even better for you.<em>

**Next Chapter:**

**Chapter Thirteen: Hold On & Hope That I'm Dreaming**


	13. Hold On & Hope That I'm Dreaming

_So, I was baby-sitting until 1am last night and my iPod died, so I just had to sit around and think for a good hour or so...and I came up with an idea I'm really happy with. Thanks so much for all the reviews, favourites and follows. (how is it even possible that there are so many of them?). I really hope you like this chapter._

_Small Note, This chapter has a lot of people talking over the radio. I tried to make it less confusing by putting anything said though the radio in italics. (the first use of italics is a flashback, btw). Keep in mind this chapter focuses around Dawson so anything that happens in the room with him (even if it's him talking on the radio) is not in italics. I hope it makes sense. Please enjoy._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen: Hold On &amp; Hope That I'm Dreaming<strong>

**(Come Wake Me Up – Rascal Flatts)**

* * *

><p>Dawson drove like a maniac. The entire ride, Atwater was terrified he'd die in a horrible, fiery accident. He almost wished he taken up Ruzek's offer to go with him, Olinsky and Voight. In reality, however, Voight was driving his car just as fast and out of control as Dawson.<p>

"_Stay with Lindsay," Voight had instructed Roman._

"_You don't want my help?" The cop asked, confused. _

"_Trust me, we've got the easy job here," Voight confessed. "Lindsay's still hurt. If she tries to come along with us she could tear her stitches. She's going to want to come along, but you can't let her."_

_The cop nodded. "I won't, and sergeant...good luck."_

Voight pulled up at the destination only moments after Dawson slammed on the brakes. Essa had told them about a stretch of commended buildings on the north side of town. Apparently, Halstead was being held somewhere amongst the stretch of buildings, but she wasn't sure which building he was in.

"Alright," Voight announced as he stepped out of his van. "We're going to have to split up to search these buildings. We know Valerie is planning something big and every second we don't find Halstead, is a second he might try to take justice into his own hands at the cost of his life."

"I take it that's why we're not waiting for Olinsky's bomb tech, Jasmine?" Atwater brought up.

"Jasmine is on her way, but she lives on the far side of town. It might be a while and we don't know if we have that long. That doesn't mean we don't think this place is rigged up with bombs like the last warehouse we raided," Olinsky explained.

"It is less likely however," Voight admitted. "Chances are they wouldn't rig the place up, if they're going to be going inside it. They want Halstead to die because of the bomb vest, not because we missed a trip wire while trying to save him."

"Regardless," Dawson added. "We should all proceed with extreme caution and the second anyone finds anything, let the rest of us know. We can all hear each other through our earpieces, so we should be good to go."

"And for god's sake, Voight grumbled. "Don't try to disarm any explosives unless you're 100% positive you know what you're doing."

"Everybody got that?" Dawson called out?"

The group all nodded and Voight began assigning buildings for people for search.

* * *

><p>"I'm in," Dawson announced over the radio. "No explosives."<p>

"_Good_," came Voight's voice. "_Let us know if you find anything interesting_."

"Yes boss."

"_Hey Voight?_" Ruzek's worried voice buzzed in Dawson's ear.

"_Ruzek. What do you see?_"

"_I just heard a click._"

Dawson cursed. "I'd lend you a hand, but I'm in the building, farthest east and you're the one, farthest west."

"_I think I stepped on a pressure plat. I think I see a wire, but I can't get a good enough angle to be sure_."

"_Atwater's closest to you. Right?_" Voight asked.

"_I think so._"

"_Yes I am. I can head over and lend Ruzek a hand. I'll finish checking my building after,_" Atwater confirmed.

"_Okay, __just be careful__. __Both of you._"

"_Yes sir._"

"_Al,_" Voight called over the radio. "_If you finish searching your building before they're done with the wire, I want you to search the building I assigned Atwater_."

"_Sure thing._"

Dawson heard a small sound. He wasn't sure what it was. Maybe a footstep, maybe a rat.

"Hey boss."

"_Yeah Dawson?_"

"I think I heard something in my building. I think it came from the basement."

"_I'll be right over._"

"No," Dawson insisted. "It could be nothing."

"_Dawson,_" the sergeant warned.

"It might've just been a rat," he confessed. "I don't need you to stop searching your building for a rat. Halstead could be in the one you're searching. I just wanted you to have a heads up, that I'm going to take out my earpiece. I'll put it back in if this turns out to be anything."

"_You sure that's a smart move?_"

"I need to be able to hear better. Your voices will only make this harder, but you need to stay talking with Atwater and Ruzek_._"

Voight let out a sigh of defeat. "_Be careful Dawson._"

"Always."

Then, Dawson took out his earpiece, putting in a pocket on his vest. He made his way to the source of the sound. There was an average door nearby. After checking it for wires, he slowly, slipped it open and snuck down the stairs behind it. He moved slowly, careful not to allow any creaking.

He reached the bottom to find a small room with two doors. He opened one and gasped.

It was a small room, void of any paint or furniture. There was a small steel loop attached to the floor by the far wall. A chain was connected to it. The chain was just shy of a meter long and ended in a handcuff. A handcuff that was tightly fastened around the wrist of Jay Halstead.

The beaten up detective seemed pretty out of it. His hand, which held the dead man switch began to loosen and Dawson snapped into action. He raced to his friend's side and clasped both his hands around Halstead's and the dead man switch.

The feeling of his friend's hands brought Halstead to attention. "Antonio?..." he whispered groggily.

"Yeah, Jay, it's me," Dawson practically shouted. He was so happy he felt he might start crying. "I've got you okay? I'm here."

"E...Erin?"

"She's alive Jay. She's alive. She's fine. It's all fine."

Jay smiled faintly. "Good...I'm glad."

"Alright, now Jay. I need you to do something for me. I'm not going to let go of your hand, but we need to let Voight know I found you okay?"

Jay nodded.

"I have an earpiece in my vest pocket. I need you to grab it and put it in okay. I'll keep talking to, but you need to tell Voight everything okay?"

Jay frowned. "It's been in your ear..."

Dawson smiled. "You'll just have to overcome the trauma."

Jay sighed. "You owe me."

Dawson laughed as the weakened detective did as he'd been instructed. "Are you kidding me? I found you. You owe me."

"I'll buy you a round later," Jay promised before putting in the earpiece.

"_Ruzek_?!" He heard Voight call in panic.

"_We're fine..._" Ruzek assured him. "_We...We uh...We could use Olinsky's help_."

Voight sighed. "_Al._"

"_I'm headed over there now_."

"Voight..." Jay mumbled.

Silence.

"Voight..." Jay mumble once more.

"..._Halstead?_" Voight whispered, his voice like glass. "_Is that you?_"

"Yeah. Dawson's here. We need you to cut me free. I'm chained to the wall."

"_I'm on my way. I've got a bolt cutter in my van._"

"_Jay!" _Ruzek practically shouted through the radio.

"Yeah. I'm here."

"_Good to hear you're voice._" Atwater confessed with a smile. "_We'd be on our way, but we're a bit occupied._"

"It's okay...I'm not going...anywhere."

"_You sound a bit out of it,_" Olinsky pointed out. "_How are you feeling? How bad are you injured?"_

"I'm beat up...but...I'll be fine...once you get me out of...of this vest."

Dawson frowned in concern. "How badly beaten up are you?"

"I'll live Antonio..." Jay promised. "Just a little...just a little sore..."

Dawson wasn't sure if he believed him, but he decided it was best not to press any further on the subject.

"Jay. We know about Valerie Marshall."

"The leader..."

"Yeah, the leader. We think she had bigger plans. Something beyond Hansen Kane."

Jay's face tensed, as he remembered something important. "Antonio. You have to stop her-"

Dawson felt a cold metal object press up against his neck. He looked down, only slightly, to see a knife being held by a strong hand.

"I suggest you shut it, detective. Unless you want your partner to choke to death on his own blood."

"_Jay? What's her plan?" _Voight asked.

"You have an earpiece in right? Take it out."

"I don't have one," Dawson promised.

"So, you gave it to your friend. Detective Halstead cough it over or I will slit Antonio's throat."

Antonio shook this head, but Jay raised his free hand to his ear. "Look Ripper, there's no need for that. Just let Antonio go."

"_Son of a..." _Ruzek cursed_. "Olinsky, ignore us. We'll be fine. Get to Halstead!"_

"_Voight,"_ Olinsky called. "_I'm coming to you!"_

"Take it out!" Ripper demanded, pressing the knife tighter to Dawson's throat. Jay did as told and handed over the earpiece. Ripper dropped it on the ground and stomper on it.

Dawson growled under his breath. He didn't check the second room. That's probably where Ripper came from. He wondered if Dante and Valerie were here too.

"Rip," Came another voice.

'Speak of the devil,' Dawson thought, rolling his eyes at the irony.

"Let's get out of here," the voice belonging to Dante, insisted.

"Unlock the walking explosive. Their friends are surely on the way," Ripper noted.

Dante unlocked Jay's hand. "Let go Antonio," he demanded.

Dawson looked at Jay, unsurely. "I can hold it," the weak detective promised.

Dawson growled as he was pulled to his feet. "You'd better."

The two detectives were lead up the stairs. Ripper held his knife closely to Dawson's neck, while Dante kept a gun trained to the back of Jay's head. They practically pushed the weakened detective up the stairs. Jay barely had the strength to walk. Dawson noticed this and wondered how much longer he could keep holding onto the dead man switch.

"Freeze!" Voight demanded as the two criminals lead their hostages out of the building. Voight and Olinsky both had their guns aimed at their enemies, but neither had a clear shot.

"I don't think you're in any position to be giving orders here, Hank Voight," Dante barked.

"You're not walking away from this alive," the sergeant snapped. "We'll put two in your brain if you have to."

Ripper laughed. "You going to tell pretty little Erin that you killed her partner? And Antonio? Somehow, I don't think so."

A black van, with no windows in the back, pulled up on the street nearest them. Valerie Marshall stepped out of it. Voight turned his gun to her as she approached. Olinsky kept his trained on the other two.

"Oh, put the gun down Voight. You wouldn't shoot a pregnant woman. Besides, even if you would, you wouldn't risk taking down Dawson and Halstead with me. I die, they will kill your friends," Valerie said sinisterly.

"I will take you down with me," Voight promised.

"But it'll be to my benefit. I'll still have my revenge. The man who killed Hansen Kane will feel the pain he cause to those I cherish."

"Cut the crap Valerie," Voight barked. "This isn't about Hansen Kane. It never has been. You never cared about Essa. Or Lee."

"I love my fiance Sergeant Voight."

"Then why do this? You're not helping him. You're only ruining his life further. He loves you Valerie. You and your unborn child! Why throw that all away for some revenge you don't even really care about?"

"Silly Hank Voight," She said with a laugh. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"This isn't about Hansen, Valerie. What is it about?"

"Hank. May I call you Hank?"

"No."

Valerie didn't even skip a beat. "I was genuine once. I was going to help Essa put her past behind her. I wanted to help, but not with anything illegal. I wasn't going to help at first. Dante pulled me aside though. He told me Essa was losing her mind. She paid the bills so he let her live with him, but she was really better off in a loony bin. I told him I'd go alone with the charade. I was never going to do it. I just thought if I said I'd do it, it would help her. That's all Dante was ever doing. Trying to keep his roommate sane enough to keep paying the bills, so he didn't have to."

Voight shook his head. "Something changed. What was it that made you decide to risk everything? Your engagement? Your friend? Your child?"

Valerie, only for a moment, looked unbearably sad. "I have nothing left Hank. Nothing, but this, this last act of vengeance and it won't matter."

"You have a family!" Dawson shouted. "That's not nothing!" Valerie walked up to Dawson. She put a hand on his shoulder and Ripper pressed the knife against his skin almost hard enough to draw blood. Dawson didn't waver though. "My family left me. I would do anything to get them back. Don't throw it all away."

"You know what it's like to lose your family?" she asked, without waiting for an answer. "You would do anything to get them back? I would too. I have lost my family, Antonio. Lee just doesn't know it yet."

Dawson's eyes drifted to her stomach. He looked back up to meet her eyes. He left out a ragged breath. Valerie smiled weakly and turned back to Voight and Olinsky.

"We're going to go now. Detective Halstead will be coming with us-"

"The hell he is!" Dawson growled.

Valerie raised a hand, turning back to the detective who was now struggling viciously. "I sympathize with you Antonio Dawson. In this moment of weakness, I'm going to let you go. Once we get Halstead into the van, along with me and Dante and Ripper, we will drive away and drop you off somewhere."

"Valerie, I know you've feel like you've-"

"Don't tell me what I feel. Do you know how long I've been pretending? How hard it's been to keep Lee believing? I've had to say I feel sick, sleep in another room, because I can't bear sleeping beside him, not when I know there'll just be this giant lie between us. I say the appointments are while he's working. I make up things they say. I lie to him everyday."

Dawson couldn't find any words. No one could.

"I haven't even gotten to mourn because I've been so busy lying." Valerie's sadness slipped away. A face or true hatred returned. "I can't go home again. All I have now is this revenge. You will not take the finale from me. Not when it is all I have left. Let's go."

"Valerie! I will end you!" Voight cried out, as Dante and Ripper threw Halstead and Dawson in the back of the truck before getting in themselves.

The woman turned around, wearing a smile. "It's been real Sergeant, but I'm afraid the game's over now."

* * *

><p>After driving for a while, the van had stopped. Ripper and Dante had gotten out of the back and he assumed Valerie had gotten out of the front. He couldn't know for sure because the back was completely separated from the cab of the vehicle. Dawson could hear them talking, probably about what to do with the extra detective. He wondered if Valerie would actually let him go.<p>

"Antonio," Jay said quietly and weakly.

"Don't say anything Jay," the detective insisted. "I'm going to get you out of this." He grasped the hand that held the switch. "Hang on okay?"

Jay shook his head. "I have to stop her. I can do this. It'll be easy. It won't hurt. I won't feel a thing. It's about stopping the bad guys right?"

Dawson shook his head furiously. "It's about getting you home."

"I don't know exactly what she's planning, but there's going to be a lot of collateral damage Antonio. That's what she told me. I can't let that happen."

"Listen to me Jay Halstead. You will not give up on me, or Erin. She's waiting for you to get back safely."

Jay smiled at the mention of his partner's name. "I'm truly glad she's okay, but..." he trailed off. "You know I have to do this. I'm not giving up. I'm just trying to save lives."

Dawson let out a ragged breath. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears. "Just promise...Just promise me you'll wait until the last possible moment. Give us as much time as you can to stop it our way."

"I have faith in Intelligence, but if we run out of time...tell Erin I'm sorry. I don't want to die Antonio...but my life...It's not worth more than any other life. What if they're children? I'm not afraid of doing my job. I will keep Chicago safe."

Dawson blinked back tears, squeezing Jay's hand as tight as he could. "We'll find you in time."

"You have no idea how much I hope you do."

The door swung open and Dante grabbed Antonio and threw him from the car. He tried to fight, but Ripper pointed a gun at Jay and Antonio froze.

The two detectives held eye contact as Ripper and Dante hopped into the car and threw a phone at Dawson. As They slammed the door shut and rove away, Dawson dropped to his knees and watched. For a moment he didn't move. Then the moment ended.

He picked up the phone and dialled a familiar number.

"He wanted me to tell you he's sorry."

There was a brief moment a silence before Erin Lindsay replied. "I'm getting a trace on your phone. I'll pick you up."

Dawson nodded. He didn't argue her leaving the precinct. It's not like there was anyway he could stop her now.

"I'm going to find him," She stated surely. "I don't care if I have to burn every criminal in Chicago to do it. Are you okay with that?"

Dawson smirked weakly. "I'm okay with that."

* * *

><p><em>I'm happy with this chapter. I know you all wanted Jay, but my stories not done yet, so I hope you enjoyed my compromise. I feel like the ending was a bit off, but I could just be crazy. Please let me know what you think. I really love all your support. It means the world to me. See you next Sunday. Oh, and sorry if anyone was OOC. They might've been. I tried. I hope you enjoyed!<em>

**Next Chapter:**

**Chapter Fourteen: I'll Burn You To The Ground**


	14. I'll Burn You To The Ground

_Chapter 14 and I'm still blown away by your reviews and all your support. It really is the reason I'm writing this story. I hope you enjoy._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen: I'll Burn You To The Ground<strong>

**(Phoenix – Fall Out Boy)**

* * *

><p>Her eyes were glassy, coated in unshed tears, but Dawson didn't mention it. He said nothing as they drove along the streets of Chicago. He didn't know where she was taking him and, honestly, he didn't really care.<p>

A part of him, hated himself for letting Jay go, for giving in to his suicidal, last resort idea. The other part of him, that had inevitably made the decision, knew Jay was right. Neither part made it hurt any less.

"Torrance," Lindsay said spontaneously as she drove like a madman. She didn't take her eyes off the road as she spoke. Her word came out dead, emotionless, a cold, hard fact.

Dawson turned towards her silently, saying nothing.

"He's an old contact of Dante. I did some digging while you were gone, found out they'd been in contact recently. I was hoping it would be necessary to know, but..." she trailed off.

Dawson picked up on the harshness of her words. "I didn't want him to go Lindsay," he defended. "If I could've traded places I would have."

"It doesn't matter."

"No. It does. You're clearly upset with me."

"All that matters is finding Jay. How I feel isn't exactly a relevant variable in this equation."

Dawson sighed. "Lindsay..." the rest of his sentence died in his throat, never making it to his lips. He knew there was no point in trying to talk sense into her. Dawson had caught a glimpse of fear beneath her cold stare. She was terrified.

Erin Lindsay didn't get scared, let alone terrified. She was trying to hide it with a lack of emotion, but Dawson could tell she was horrified of what might happen if they didn't find Jay in time.

After another period of silence, Lindsay brought the car to a screeching halt outside a run-down, auto-body shop. She hopped out of the car and Dawson followed suit.

Neither bothered to knock.

There was a man underneath a car, fixing something. Dawson and Lindsay walked around the place. Once they were both satisfied that there was no one else but the themselves and the one under the car, they approached him.

Dawson gently kicked the man's leg. He slid out from under the car and rose to his feet.

"Torrance?" Lindsay asked.

The man nodded. "Yeah. Who's asking?"

Without skipping a single beat, Lindsay grabbed Torrance by the front of his shirt and spun his around, slamming him onto a nearby table. His body swept all sorts of miscellaneous tools and items off the surface. Dawson watched. He was concerned Lindsay might pull something, but he didn't say anything, and his expression revealed nothing.

"If you're here for Paco- I got the money!" Torrance squealed.

"Dante. I want you to tell me about your old friend Dante."

"Dante?! I haven't seen him since prison!"

Lindsay shook her head. "I've run your phone records. You two've been talking a fair amount recently."

"Yeah! But I ain't _seen_ him!"

Lindsay walked away, to another surface with tools. As she ran her fingers over the different items, Torrance stayed completely still, paralyzed by fear. She returned a moment later with a blowtorch. She hovered over him and flicked it on. The ex-con squirmed, trying to get away from the flame.

"What did you two talk about?" She demanded.

"I owe a guy some money," he whimpered. "I was hoping Dante could help me out."

"And..." Dawson persuaded him to continue.

"And he said he was doing a job of sorts- didn't say what kind. I didn't ask." Lindsay brought the flame closer to his face, causing Torrance to speak faster. "He said he could help me though- as long as I paid him back with good interest." Closer. Faster. "He gave me fifty grand, but I wasn't going to pay him back. I was going to skip town with the cash."

Lindsay flipped off the blowtorch. "Dante's not an idiot. He wouldn't give someone fifty grand without some sort of insurance. Especially, someone as squirrelly as you."

"We're friends. He must trust me."

Lindsay let out a sigh and placed the turned off blowtorch against Torrance's chest plate. "I suggest you stop lying to me."

Torrance whimpered, "There's this guy...I...I kinda work for him...he gave me one of his lieutenant's cars to fix up...Dante took it as insurance. If my boss...If he finds out I lost the car before I skip town... I'm a dead man. It was a Ferrari."

Lindsay smiled. "I want the names of your boss and the owner of the car. Plus, it's make, model and license plate number."

Torrance shook his head. "They'll kill me..."

Lindsay pulled the blowtorch away from his chest and place it in front of his face, moving it far enough back so it wouldn't burn him alive as soon as she turned it on. Instead, when she did, the flame ended near Torrance's face instead of on. It was still very hot and uncomfortable for the mechanic, but Lindsay didn't care.

"You should be less worried about the dangers that you might face and more concerned about the dangers you are facing, namely. me."

"Fine! Fine! I'll tell you anything you want to know!"

Lindsay waited a moment before turning off the blowtorch and forcefully pulling Torrance to his feet. She gave a harsh shove, pushing him towards a desk filled with drawers.

"Go write it down," she demanded.

As he hobbled off, Dawson grabbed Lindsay's arm. "I'm assuming we're following the car."

She nodded. "That's the plan."

Dawson shook his head and sighed. "I'm okay with threatening a few dirtbags here and there Erin, but you're still recovering. Can we promise that from now on, you'll hang back and I'll _talk _to them."

Lindsay shrugged. "I'm going to do whatever I have to do to get him back." She made a move to turn towards Torrance, but Dawson tightened his grip on her arm before releasing her.

"If anything happens to you because of your own disregard for your own safety...Voight _will_ have my head."

"Is that all you care about? Your own head?"

Dawson's face gave off a sad emotion. "That's not fair Erin, and you know it's not true."

Lindsay shook her head weakly. "Voight called me before you did. He and the others were on their way back to the station. He told me what happened, how you found Jay and they took you both..." she trailed off for a moment. "I don't know what happened between you and Jay, but judging by the fact that you can't quite look me in the eyes, I'm assuming you accepted his idea."

Dawson stared at the floor, saying nothing.

"You told him it was okay to blow himself up."

"That's not the whole story."

"The whole story doesn't matter Antonio," she snapped. "If he blows himself up, that's on you."

"Valerie's plan involves citizen casualties. That's what Jay told me. As much as I wish we could just ignore that fact, we can't. We're police Erin. His life isn't worth more than the civilians that could die, regardless of how much we want it to be!"

Lindsay was about to speak, but she was cut off by Torrance handing her a piece of paper with all the requested information. She snatched it from his hands.

"You have surveillance here?" she asked

Torrance nodded.

"I want you to send a copy of your feeds to this IP address," she instructed, writing down some numbers on a nearby piece of paper.

The ex-con nodded and picked up the piece of paper.

"Take your money and run," she snapped before walking away. Dawson turned to follow, but paused when the mechanic spoke up.

"Are you police?" he asked quietly.

Dawson didn't turn around. He didn't need to.

"Aren't you supposed to be enforcing the law?...n-not breaking it?" he stammered.

Dawson sighed. "We're supposed to be saving lives," he stated before following Lindsay back to the vehicle.

* * *

><p>They sat in the car outside the auto-body shop. They had called Platt's tech guy, Ranger, with the information and the security videos and asked what he could get them. He had said he would call back in a couple minutes. Now, they waited.<p>

"I'm sorry." Lindsay's words cut through the silence like a knife. "I was out of line. I know you care about finding Jay. I just..." She paused for a moment staring right at he friend. "I'm scared," she confessed. "I don't know what I'll do if we can't save him. I don't know how to live in a world without him. I don't- I don't know if I want to."

Dawson sighed. "I tried to talk him out of it," he said quietly. "I told to hang in there, for us, for you." He took a heavy breath. "He's not giving up. He assured me of that. Erin, he doesn't want to die. He wants to live."

Lindsay nodded silently.

"He's going to fight, give us as long as he can. We have to trust that he'll give us enough time."

A single tear began to stream down Lindsay's face. They sat in silence as the tear feel without a sound.

"He'll hang in there," Dawson assured her after a pause. "He's good at that. I mean, putting up with you for this long, how much better can one get at hanging on?"

A small chuckle broke through Lindsay's sobs. She looked at her friend with a weak smile.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I needed that."

"There's nothing you're going through that I don't know," Dawson pointed out, thinking of his own late partner. He paused, thinking for a moment. "Then again..." he said with a smirk. "Jules and I didn't _quite _have the same feelings for each other that you two do..."

"Hey," Lindsay chastised, as she slapped his arm.

Dawson laughed as his phone began to ring. "Dawson."

"I got some information for you," Ranger announced.

"Hang tight. Let me put you on speaker...Okay. Shoot."

"I checked out the surveillance feeds and found the time that Dante picked up the car. He picked it up only a couple hours before going to Halstead's apartment. It seems like a hell of a coincidence to me, but you're the detectives."

Lindsay and Dawson exchanged a questioning look, but said nothing, allowing Ranger to continue.

"Then I looked at the car. It's owned by Henry Dane, also known as Tiny. I looked through some of his recent purchases, he bought a tracking device only hours after purchasing this Ferrari. If I had to guess I'd say the device is in the car. Of course, you'd have to talk to Tiny to gain access to it. I got an address for the guy, sent it to both of your phones."

"Appreciate it," Dawson said before hanging up. "So, detective, how you want to play this? Barge in demanding in it?"

Lindsay thought about it for a moment.

"I've got another idea that would involve less risk of you tearing your stitches," Dawson admitted. "Because Voight really will kill me. He'll probably kill me anyways. I'm guessing you didn't ask him if you could leave the precinct."

Lindsay shrugged. "I was done sitting around with my partner's life on the line."

Dawson smiled faintly. "Let's go meet this Tiny. And Erin..."

"Yeah?"

"Write something nice on my grave."

* * *

><p>Lindsay knocked on the door. She wanted to break down the door and put her gun up against the man's head, demanding he help her. It took all of her willpower to wait for Tiny to answer the door, and even more to stop her from breaking his hand the moment she saw him.<p>

The man had a nice house. It wasn't too extravagant, but still rather pricy. It was likely that nearly everything the criminal owned was bought with drug money. Dawson was probably right. Bursting in would likely set of some type of alarm.

"Hello?"

Lindsay flashed a smile. "Hello. I'm here to talk to you about your car. The Ferrari."

Tiny frowned. "I'm sorry. I-"

"I'm here on Paco's behalf," she interrupted. "The man you had fix your car, he works for Paco. You know this."

He nodded.

"Great. Now, Paco has reasons to believe that this mechanic may be trying to sip town. He's not at his auto-body shop and neither is your car. He sent me here to see if your vehicle was equipped with a tracking device."

Tiny paused for a moment thinking about it. "Yeah, but...I've never seen you before. How do I know you work for Paco?"

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Really? I've dropped several clues in the brief conversation we just had. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were behind on your phrases."

Tiny's face froze in confusion.

"I see. How sad. May I see your cars location?"

Tiny nodded, still confused. "It's- uh- It's an app on my phone." He let her into the house, closing the door behind them. He walked over to a small side-table, picked up his cell and opened the app. "See, it's says my car is- son of a..." Tiny cussed viciously. "It's not at the shop. It's at the other side of town!"

Lindsay smiled an I-told-you-so smile. "I'll go relay this information to Paco. I'll need your phone."

Tiny took a step back. "No. I'm going to go get this back myself. You can tell Paco, I'll bring that damn mechanic back in a body bag."

Lindsay frowned. "I'm sorry, he wanted me to deliver the location. He didn't ask for a corpse."

"Sorry hun," the criminal grumbled. "This is my car, my business."

That was the point that Lindsay lost her cool. She threw a harsh, right-handed punch at Tiny's left cheek. The man staggered, but didn't fall. Lindsay was able to land one more hit to his gut, before he came to his senses and was able to block her blows. He swept her legs out from underneath her with one well-timed kick. She returned the favour with a swing of her right leg as she lay on the floor.

Before he could get up, Lindsay took up position on top of him and began punching him in the face, over and over. A couple minutes (or a few seconds) later (Lindsay couldn't tell), Dawson pulled his friend off the, now, unconscious man.

"Erin!" He called out, as he pried her away from Tiny. "Get a grip!"

Dawson released her shoulders and she slumped to her knees. He walked around her, so he was know between her and Tiny. He then took a knee, getting down to the same level as her. She handed him a phone.

"It's an app," she explained. "I have the Ferrari's location."

"Erin. You're bleeding."

Lindsay looked down. Sure enough, she'd torn her stitches in her brief fight, but she couldn't feel it. She felt a bit faint, but no pain registered in her body.

"I thought we agreed to make this clean. In and out, no injuries," Dawson chastised.

Lindsay shrugged. "Maybe you should've gone in."

"I thought a pretty face would help...and I didn't think you'd beat him senseless."

"Talking around it would take time. We don't have time."

"Erin," Dawson sighed. "You have to consider your own injury. I'll take you back to the hospital."

She shook her head furiously. "Antonio, I can't go back. I'm fine. I'm fine, please."

Dawson stared at her in awe. "Erin, you were shot. You need help. This isn't a scrape."

She shook her head. "I don't care. I want to help. I need to help." She shot her friend a look of pure determination. "It's Jay, Antonio. I need to help."

Dawson inhaled deeply, then exhaled. "I'll call Gabby, see if she can patch you up. But Erin, I swear to god, you have to to take it easy after this."

"What if Jay dies because I'm too concerned about myself?!" she cried out.

"He won't."

"And if he does?! What then? How am I supposed to live with myself if that happens? How are you supposed to live with yourself? Antonio, I'll take it easy, but to save Jay...I don't care what happens to me."

"He does," Dawson reminded her. "I don't want to explain to Halstead that he's the reason you're so hurt. He was so relieved when I said you where okay Erin. Don't make my words into a lie."

"Just...Just promise me you'll find him."

Dawson nodded. "I'll call Gabby."

* * *

><p>"I still think it's a bad idea," Gabriela Dawson pointed out as she finished patching up Lindsay's wound. "She needs a doctor."<p>

"What I need-" Lindsay groaned as she rose to her feet. "-is to find my partner."

Gabby bit her lip, looking back and forth between the two detectives. She turned to her brother as Lindsay got into her car, waiting for Antonio.

"Antonio. I'm serious."

He shrugged. "You've done stupider things."

"This isn't about me. This is about Erin. I patched it up for now, but she needs to keep physical action to a minimum, not go on a raid."

Antonio smiled weakly. "We're way closer to this car, than anyone else in our unit. It'll be faster for us to go alone. We don't even know if anyone will be there. We can't send the whole unit to go check out a lead with this small of a chance of panning out."

Gabby sighed. "Keep an eye on her."

Antonio nodded. "Promise," he said, before he and his sister made there way back to their respective vehicles. He hopped into the passenger seat of Lindsay's car and stared silently at her for a moment.

"Why are you doing this Erin? You have to know it's insane."

"Do you remember when you said that Jay isn't worth the lives of a bunch of civilians?"

Dawson nodded.

Lindsay took a heavy breath, holding it for a moment before letting it back out.

"He is to me."

* * *

><p><em>Wow. This chapter didn't go at all like I had planned...like...at all...My writings just develop minds of their own and take over I guess. I still hope you like it. I tried to hint at some Linstead...I've never really written romance before (and it still isn't the focus of this story), but I've been talking with LindsteadLove and I've been trying to figure out how to incorporate some degree of Linstead into my story. Anyways, this isn't my best work, but please let me know how you felt about it, especially the Lindsay feels. Was it OOC? Was it awkward? Feel free to let me know so I can make it better.<em>

_I dunno...this chapter kinda felt weird to write...maybe it's because of all the studying I've been doing. _

_Anyways, I hope you enjoyed. **NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE UP NEXT SUNDAY **(I made that easy to read so people who don't read the A/N can see it). Talk to you then._

**Next Chapter: **

**Chapter Fifteen: So Gung Ho To Lay Down Our Lives**


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